


avoidance

by reddiextozier



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Comfort, Crying, Death, Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Escapism, Five Stages of Grief, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Major character death - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, TommyInnit Has PTSD (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatized Toby Smith | Tubbo, Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, awesamdad, mentions of manipulation, no beta we die like wilbur, some fluff towards the end, talk of trauma, tubbo also needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29605284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddiextozier/pseuds/reddiextozier
Summary: "What am I without you?”"Yourself."The tears still stained his skin, left Tommy feeling sick and sticky. He hated it, hated being the reason that Tubbo had almost died, because ofTommy.But that meant that people knew how much Tubbo meant to Tommy, knew that Tommy would sacrifice everything to keep Tubbo safe and out of harm's way. If Dream could see it, everyone could. People would hold his friendship against him, would threaten him with Tubbo, would put Tubbo in harm and take him from the peaceful life he was trying so badly to finally live.Tommy couldn’t live knowing that he was the reason Tubbo could lose his peaceful life in Snowchester.So he left him. Made excuses, avoided Tubbo at all costs for two months.
Relationships: Tommyinnit & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Comments: 23
Kudos: 229





	1. tommy - restraint

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this before Tommy's most recent lore stream, when he got stuck in the prison with Dream lmao
> 
> This story does include a shit ton of Tommy reflecting on his trauma, as well as a few mentions of suicidal thoughts (though it's only like two or three sentences). But just be warned that this story has some pretty heavy content for a bit, I tried not to make the entire story revolve around the heavy shit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy needs some of his sense knocked back in.

Tommy was running. 

Well, not literally. He was more running away from his fears. He was running away from the things that scared him, from the things that made him weak, from the things that threatened the people he loved. 

Coincidentally, he was also running away from the person he loved the most, convincing himself that it was keeping the both of them safe. 

Before the last fight with Dream, when Tommy and Tubbo were sharing Tommy’s house, he couldn’t think of anything that made him happier than sharing a house with his best friend. He could always see where Tubbo was, knew that he was safe and sound within the walls that Tommy had built. They were finally reaching that level of closeness and tenderness that they were at before Tommy was exiled. They were comfortable and safe around each other, eating meals side by side and gathering supplies while talking in hushed tones. 

Tommy had learned to trust Tubbo again, learned about the things that had happened during his exile, cried and sobbed when Tubbo had opened up about the heart ache he would feel each day, not knowing if Tommy was okay or not. He felt guilt wrack his entire body when Tubbo had told him about finding his pillar, about almost holding a funeral before Tommy had shown up with Technoblade and held Connor hostage for the olders supplies. 

They cried together, they laughed together, they fell asleep leaning against one another in an effort to feel close and okay again. Tommy had loved every second of it, loved being in the same house as his most important person. He enjoyed waking up to Tubbo quietly humming and watching the sun rise from the open front door. He enjoyed standing beside Tubbo in the kitchen after dinner, washing and drying dishes, cracking jokes and participating in small talk. He had grown used to making his bed to make Tubbo happy, to the bees that were constantly buzzing around the front yard, following Tubbo like their lives depended on it. 

He had grown used to the play fights, to the small arguments that ended in one of them caving in and apologizing with hugs and jokes. To the sounds of Tubbo’s loud snores in the middle of the night when Tommy couldn’t sleep. He had grown used to there being another mug next to his own when he would wake up each morning, or when they were thrown into the sink before bed after drinking warm milk. 

Tommy had never been interested in living with anybody, with sharing a bathroom, with sharing his food and personal space. He had never liked having other people snooping around his house, hated having others see the inside of his home unless it was important. He enjoyed his personal space, loved having an entire space that was his and nobody else's. 

But he so much more preferred having Tubbo there. Though he would never admit it, he dearly missed Tubbo’s presence in his house. He missed having his best friend by his side every day. He missed the whispers they would share late in the night, when stress and anxiety was keeping them awake. He missed making an extra mug of hot chocolate on cold mornings and sharing his breakfast when they were short on food. 

He missed Tubbo. 

But that didn’t matter. As much as he missed seeing his best friend everyday, as much as he missed hearing his random words and his contagious laugh, Tommy needed to stay away. He had declined Tubbo’s offer to go live in Snowchester, argued that he could look out for himself when Tubbo explained that he just wanted to keep Tommy safe within the walls of his country. They had gotten into one of their worst fights yet the day after defeating Dream, had argued for hours, had said hurtful things that neither of them meant. 

They had ignored each other for a week, Tommy taking time to talk to Sam and get him working on a new hotel for the people who had lost their homes and, like him, didn’t want to join a country immediately after losing one, while Tubbo worked on expanding Snowchester and tightening their defense. 

It was Sam who had forced them together again, tired of seeing Tommy moping around and whining about missing Tubbo, dragging both of them by an ear and forcing them to sit down in his bank so they could talk out their feelings. They had apologized, Tommy had come up with some bullshit lie about not liking the snow anymore after his ordeal with Technoblade, and agreed that Tommy would at least visit when he was feeling lonely. 

Then they had parted ways, promising to keep in contact and see each other in a week. 

That was two months ago. 

Tommy had made a point of avoiding Snowchester at all costs, was always on high alert in case Tubbo was around Old L’Manberg or the construction site. He had paid Sam extra to lie and say that he hadn’t seen Tommy much either, knowing Tubbo would go looking for him when he hadn’t sent a letter back the week after their promise. 

Sam had made a point of drilling Tommy for answers when he had come barging into his house with a bag full of diamonds and more building supplies than Sam had asked for. Tommy hadn’t broken though, claiming that he just didn’t want any distractions while he was working on the hotel, wanted to surprise Tubbo with the end result. Sam had accepted the fake words with a raised eyebrow and eyes full of worry and pity. 

Now the hotel wa finished, taking in customers and making as little money as possible so people had a safe place to stay while they worked on building up their own houses or gathered the supplies they had lost when L’Manberg was exploded. 

Now Tommy lay in the suite on the top floor, staring blankly up at the plain ceiling above him, one arm under his head and the other laying at his side. A breeze blew in through the window above the bed, causing the curtains to shift around gently. He couldn’t hear many of the animals from up here, but the cats that roamed around the hotel rooms and hallways were enough to keep his mind at ease. 

He could hear Jack shuffling around on one of the floors below, light music seeping through the stone and cement. He was probably cleaning up before his shift ended. Tommy had let him off early today, as they were quite slow today given that everyone had finally settled in and mostly kept to themselves in their rooms. Plus, Tommy always felt guilty keeping Jack late, knowing he had to make a trek through the snow to get back to his home in Snowchester. 

The thought of the country made Tommy wince, and he turned onto his side against the soft mattress and blankets, curling into himself as his usual thoughts of missing Tubbo invaded his mind. 

He had caught glimpses here and there of his best friend, if he could even call him that anymore. They hadn’t shared a single word with each other since that day two months ago, Tommy wasn’t even sure if Tubbo knew he was still around. He would regularly hide the moment he would catch sight of Tubbo, shoving himself around trees or ducking behind houses or buildings. Even now he would hide up in the hotel suite, having claimed it as his own when Tubbo had started showing up to his house while he was out and leaving little notes and snacks. 

It broke Tommy’s heart, ignoring Tubbo, who clearly cared about him and was worrying over him. He would often send Jack Manifold back home with small one sentence notes or small baskets of random things to assure Tubbo that he was at least still alive. He would often use the excuse that he was now too busy with his hotel to go visit, or to have Tubbo stop by. That would usually keep Tubbo away, but sometimes he would drop by to visit Jack, leave him a bag of lunch or just chat at the front counter. 

During those times, Tommy would hide in the little bunker they had made downstairs, his back against the wall as tears fell down his cheeks listening to Tubbo’s soothing laugh and bright voice. He could sense the worry behind his words when he would ask Jack about Tommy, getting the same answer that Tommy had told him to tell every time he was brought into the conversation: he’s busy. 

It was working, thankfully. Tommy needed to keep his distance from Tubbo, needed to stay away from his most important person to keep him safe and sound, to keep him away from the clutches that people held on Tommy. 

Everyone knew that the only person Tommy would move mountains for, would sacrifice himself for, would trade everything he has ever held dear, was Tubbo. Tommy would fight until his dying breath to keep Tubbo out of harm's way, would kill and be killed if it meant that Tubbo could finally have the peace he deserved. That much was proved when he had thrown his disc back at Dream on that day, when Dream was counting down, holding a sword to Tubbo’s throat and threatening his life. 

The image would often show itself in his nightmares, reminding him of what he had almost lost because of his desperate need for those stupid fucking discs. 

It terrified him, left him gasping awake and shaking at night at the reminder that he had almost lost _Tubbo_. It pained him to know that Tubbo had almost lost his last life that day. He was Tommy’s closest friend, his brother, his family. There was nothing that could ever come between them, and Tommy usually held Tubbo’s final life above even his own. 

But that day, tears falling down their cheeks as Tommy _begged_ for Tubbo to keep fighting for his life, to not give up, to _stay for him_ , he had realized all that he could lose. In that moment, the discs didn’t matter, his hatred towards Dream didn’t matter, his own life didn’t matter. He couldn’t fucking lose Tubbo, couldn’t go a single day knowing that Tubbo, the person who kept his head on and kept Tommy tame and looked out for him and understood his pain and heartbreak when he had lost Wilbur, was dead. 

He had never cried in front of anyone until that day, had never let his guard down and shown so much weakness in front of anyone besides Wilbur. But he hadn’t been able to help it, was haunted by the look of defeat in Tubbo’s eyes as Dream watched them with a wicked smile from the corner. He could still hear the calm in Tubbo’s voice, could see the tears sliding down and collecting at his jaw, his trembling hands as he tried to calm Tommy down and accept that he was at his end. 

Tommy could still see his dirty and shaky hands as he held Tubbo’s face in his hands, sobbing and begging, asking for Tubbo to stop being so fucking _calm_ about dying. 

_”What am I without you?”_

_”Yourself.”_

The tears still stained his skin, left Tommy feeling sick and sticky. He hated it, hated that Tubbo had almost died, because of _him_. 

But that meant that people knew how much Tubbo meant to Tommy, knew that Tommy would sacrifice everything to keep Tubbo safe and out of harm's way. If Dream could see it, everyone could. People would hold his friendship against him, would threaten him with Tubbo, would put Tubbo in harm and take him from the peaceful life he was trying so badly to finally live. 

Tommy couldn’t live knowing that he was the reason Tubbo could lose his peaceful life in Snowchester. 

So he left him. Made excuses, avoided Tubbo at all costs for two months. 

It hurt still, not seeing Tubbo everyday, not sharing the same house like they had planned before their last fight with Dream. He thought he would be over it after a while, thought that it would be so much easier to push Tubbo out of his life. But if he had learned anything from his days in exile, he couldn’t live without Tubbo. 

_I’m nothing without you, Tubbo._

Tommy hated admitting it, but it was true. 

He was nothing without Tubbo. 

But he couldn’t tell Tubbo any of these things. He would be angry, would yell and they would fight. Tubbo hated it when Tommy distanced himself. He hated it even more when Tommy distanced himself for Tubbo’s sake. He preferred it when they were together, when he could keep his eye on Tommy, when he could confirm that Tommy was safe and sound. He would hate Tommy for what he’s currently doing. 

“Tommy?” The voice startled him, made him snap up in his bed, his eyes wide and his heart racing as he reached for the nightstand, where his sword leaned against, glowing purple in the darkness that now took over the room while he was lost in his thoughts. 

Jack Manifold stood in the doorway, his hands raised up to show that he wasn’t going to hurt him. Tommy sighed in relief, his hand falling beside him as he scooted further up the bed to lean against the headboard. 

“Heading home?” He asked, hoping Jack would ignore the shake in his voice and the way his hand clenched against the bedsheets, anxiety coursing through his veins. Jack nodded at his words, an awkward smile plastering itself on his face that wasn’t returned. 

“Yeah, just wanted to make sure you were alright before I did.” Tommy didn’t reply to that, instead let his eyes shift over to his enchanted sword, breathing deeply. He liked it when Jack was here, liked being able to hear the familiar voice dance through the halls. Jack was one of Tommy’s longest friends, had been there the day Tommy had lost two of his three lives in their war for independence. He had been there to reassure Tommy after Wilbur died, pushing him to go out every once in a while when Tubbo was busy being the president. 

Though now, Tommy was sure that Jack was up to something bad and was suspicious of him at all hours, it was better to have someone familiar around than the people he barely knew that stayed within the walls of the hotel. 

“Um, okay, yeah I’m fine. Just… Tired.” Jack didn’t seem to buy it, but he shrugged anyway, turning in the doorway and grabbing his jacket and bag, one hand sitting on the door knob. 

“Alright, I’ll be going then. Make sure you get some rest, I feel like tomorrow is gonna be a busy one.” With that, their small interaction was over and Jack closed the door gently behind him. Tommy was cast into complete darkness save for the purple of his sword, which didn’t really help with the anxiety that wracked his body. 

_It was Dream’s sword, after all._

He only kept the thing around because he was too busy to make his own overpowered sword, didn’t have the time to go mining for netherite and then spend hours at the spider farm getting xp for enchantments. But it still held terrible memories, things that left him scared and teary. 

Like when the blade was pressed to Tubbo’s throat… 

He shook the thought from his head, sighing loudly and slumping back against the headboard of his bed, head banging against the wood. Why did he constantly have to remember that? It flashed through his nightmares, left him feeling panicked and shaky at random moments of the day. It had been months since that day, had been months that Dream was in prison and Tommy was finally released from his grasp. 

But it still terrified him. 

He wished he could go back to the days before all of this, the wars and the manipulation, before the explosions and elections and deaths. 

Even before L’Manberg. He had been so indescribably happy before L’Manberg was created. The only things he had cared about back then was his friends and his discs. He wasn’t attached to countries, or spots of land. He didn’t have to worry about the consequences of his actions too much. He didn’t need to worry about who was his enemy, because he had none. 

He was just a kid, learning about the world and running around, getting into trouble and hanging out with his best friend. 

Now he was a broken teenager who had seen enough bullshit to last a lifetime. 

And he was still running. 

Running from so much. The fact that he could be the reason Tubbo dies, the memory of L’Manberg, the thought that he was one day soon going to revive his insane older brother. He was running from the fact that Dream was behind these dark thoughts and feelings that Tommy tried to incredibly hard to push down and never let see the light of day. 

He was running away from old days, when he was just a happy kid, when he had met Wilbur and deemed him as his older brother. When Phil had said he would adopt Tommy because he was important to Wilbur. He was running from the fact that after everything he had done to Tommy’s friends and home, he didn’t hate Technoblade. He was running from the fact that he was happy Dream came up with the excuse of the book of resurrection, because he didn’t think he had the strength to take away Dream’s last life. 

He was running away from everything that made him scared. Of everything that had ever hurt him. 

He still couldn’t go near plains biomes without feeling his hands begin to tremble and his anxiety to spike. He hated hearing the sound of lava because it reminded him of when he would stare longingly into its depths, wondering whether he should just end it all there or wait for his best friend to save him. 

He hated seeing smiley faces, because it reminded him of Dream. He hated being near tall towers, because he was reminded of the time he _actually_ almost gave up. He hated being in snow biomes because he was reminded of Technoblade and how he must feel right now. He hated seeing one block holes that lead to nowhere because he was reminded of when he would need to throw all the items he had worked so hard for into it just for the items to be destroyed. 

But those were all in his past, those were things that had happened months ago, things that he should be over by now. He had come so far, was back home, had successfully imprisoned his abuser. Things were back to normal, save for L’Manberg being there. He no longer had to keep an eye out in fear that there was a threat just around the corner. 

So why did he still feel like this?

Why did he still have those dark thoughts sometimes, causing him to stand at the edge of the roof of his hotel, tears running down his cheeks and wind whipping past? Why did he wake up in the middle of the night sobbing and shaking, the nightmares he would have during his exile coming back to haunt him and make him feel crazy? Why did he still sleep with his compass to Tubbo pressed to his chest, hoping and praying that it would make all his nightmares disappear just like it did back in his tent? 

Why couldn’t he go back to normal? 

He was sixteen, he shouldn’t have to distance himself from his best friend just because he was scared that he would be the reason Tubbo loses his chance to live peacefully in Snowchester. He shouldn’t have to live in constant fear that Dream was somehow going to break out of the prison and continue torturing him and his friends. He shouldn’t have to be scared that he would do something to make Technoblade come back and destroy the rest of the things that made him happy. He shouldn’t live in fear that when his brother comes back, he was going to be just as broken as he was when he left. 

Tommy hated it, he hated it all so much. 

He sighed quietly, rubbing his hands harshly across his face to try and get the thoughts out of his head. He had been plagued with them every night since he had sent Deam to jail, and they had only worsened when he had gone to visit him weeks prior. 

His stomach growled then, as if giving him an excuse to remove those thoughts from his mind and get up to go eat. He hadn’t eaten anything all day, too stressed out because Tubbo had been around almost the entire day. He and Jack had been hanging out on the first floor, Tubbo helping a little bit with the people who needed to bring some belongings up to their rooms. It had forced Tommy to hole himself up on the top floor and to tell Jack to make Tubbo believe that he was out visiting another village for some supplies he needed. 

Another sigh left his lips at the reminder, and he pushed himself to the edge of the wide bed, pushing the white blankets off his legs and swinging them over. His bare feet touched the ground and he hissed at the cold that spread through his toes. He side eyed his sword as he pushed himself off the bed, hand flinching towards the handle before he decided he should be fine without it. It was his own hotel after all, he was sure that he would be safe. 

Without even fixing his wrinkled clothes or hair, Tommy made his way towards the door, wincing at the bright lights of the hallway. It was quiet out, and his footsteps were muffled by the grey carpets that spread throughout the hotel. 

It took him no time at all to get from the top floor to the ground floor, though his stomach decided he was taking too long and left him grumbling the entire walk down the stairs and hallways. Thankfully everyone is either in their rooms or out and about, because he doesn’t run into anybody else on his way to the kitchen on the first floor. 

It would be an understatement to say that he was surprised when he walked into the kitchen, rubbing his rumbling stomach through his plain white t-shirt, to see Sam sitting at the counter. 

He was dressed in his casual attire, a long sleeved, dark green t-shirt and a pair of jeans, though his hair was a bit messy and he looked half asleep. Tommy felt a moment of panic flash through him as his eyes widened and he rushed to his friends side, grabbing one of his shoulders and checking his body for injuries. 

“Are you okay, Sam? What the hell are you doing here at a time like this?” A quick look to the clock above the stove told him it was forty-five minutes until midnight. 

Sam laughed and rolled his eyes, shrugging Tommy’s hand off and moving the cup of milk he had in front of him. Tommy frowned at the action, concern still settling in his bones, but also confusion. Sam clearly wasn’t hurt, just looked tired, like he had been woken up and rushed here for whatever reason. 

“I’m fine, Tommy. Jack just gave me a call before he left earlier saying he was worried about you.” Tommy scoffed at the words, the concern leaving all at once and being replaced with annoyance. Jack had done this often, calling Sam over when he was worried about Tommy’s wellbeing. Tommy had told him countless times before that he could take care of himself. He may be sixteen, but he’s had to fend for himself and grow up faster than he should have over the years. Though it appeared that Jack still didn’t listen. 

Tommy ought to cut his paycheck. 

“I’m fine, Sam. Tubbo was just around today and I couldn’t see him because I was busy,” he moved past his friend, who had honestly become a father figure to him over the months, and made his way towards the fridge. “That’s probably why he called. He thinks I’m avoiding Tubbo for some reason.” 

“Well, are you?” Sam asked, turning in his seat to watch as Tommy pulled a sandwich from the fridge, left by Tubbo this afternoon, he supposed. He didn’t know how to answer the question though, hesitating in front of the cold and biting the inside of his cheek as he thought it over. 

The obvious answer was that yes, he has been avoiding Tubbo, and he was doing a hell of a good job at it. He knew that Jack would eventually catch onto him, would see past the excuses that he was just too busy to see Tubbo, since he had locked himself in his room the entire afternoon because Tubbo was here for an ungodly amount of hours. 

But he couldn’t tell Sam about that. The last time the two avoided each other, he was the reason they got back together to talk, even if it ended with broken promises and a few tears on Tommy’s part. 

“No, I’m not avoiding him. Why the hell would I? I’ve just been busy is all.” He did his best to look everywhere in the kitchen except for Sam’s direction, knowing the elder would see right through him the moment he saw his face, saw the heartbreak that sat behind his eyes. 

“You’re sure? Because I’ve been told someone has been locking themselves away more than they’ve worked these days.” Fuck you, Jack Manifold. Why did he have to go yapping his mouth to everyone about Tommy’s personal life? He would blame it on being a good friend, on being concerned. Tommy was convinced he just liked annoying him. 

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” he walked towards one of the stainless steel counters unwrapping his sandwich from the plastic wrap and jumping onto the surface of the counter. 

Sam nodded, clearly not convinced. What did a guy have to do to be believed around here? 

To be fair, he _was_ lying straight to Sam’s face. He couldn’t really blame the man for seeing through his lies. He worked at the prison, after all. It was a given in his resume to be good at seeing through lies, to know when the truth is possibly being altered. 

“When was the last time you and Tubbo hang out?” He grabbed his glass of milk from the counter and turned in his chair to eye Tommy, who bit his lip and stared down at his sandwich. He suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore, not liking the questioning session that he was suddenly thrown in. He wished he had stayed upstairs, in the comfort of his room where he didn’t need to worry about someone coming up to bug him. 

“Few weeks ago.” A lie. 

“What did you guys do?” 

“Got a meal, listened to some music, watched the sun set.” Another lie. 

“What did you listen to?” 

“Cat, like the good old days.” He hadn’t touched a single disc since he had walked through the portal back home with his two most prized. 

It was silent between them for a few seconds, wherein Tommy gulped and gnawed at his lip, foot shaking and bouncing off the cabinets beneath the counter. Tommy would normally never lie to Sam, not after all that he’s done for him since he’s come back from exile and that last fight with Dream. He assumed that Sam had wanted to take care of him, to be there for him the way his absent father hadn’t. Tommy wasn’t complaining, he enjoyed having a parental figure around that he knew wasn’t going to murder his brother or destroy his home. 

But he also hated it because it meant now, he felt guilty for lying to Sam. It already ate at his stomach, made him want to puke despite his empty insides. He could feel his insides churning, his head aching, his mind whirring. 

It also meant that Sam could read him like a book. 

“Why are you avoiding him?” 

Was there an easy way to answer that? Was there an easy way to say that you’re trying to protect that last life of your best friend? That you’re still angry at Technoblade for putting your best friend in this situation? Was there an easy way to say that you would kill, _be killed_ , to protect that last life? Would Sam even take him seriously? Or would he laugh and force Tommy into Snowchester, where he was sure he would have one of those panic attacks that had become a regular thing in his life over the months? 

Everyone thought he was too young to have been making such grown up decisions, thought he was just a mindless teenager who’s only thought was to get control of L’Manberg, to be seen as someone who was more powerful than others. So he was never taken seriously. People would laugh in his face, would tease him and make fun of him behind his back. So why would now be different? Why would people begin to take him seriously now? After he had gotten their home destroyed? 

What was keeping Sam from telling him he was being childish for avoiding Tubbo with the excuse of keeping them both safe? 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He was good at denying things. 

Sam sighed and leaned back in his seat, the milk in his glass sloshing at the action and his head hanging. He surely knew how stubborn Tommy was when it came to talking about his feelings or his actions. But he was good at pretending like nothing as wrong, he was good at pretending like everything was somewhat okay. 

“Tommy,” Sam started, and Tommy could hear the concern in his voice. He had been especially protective of Tommy as of late, more concerned. Maybe he had been around him so much that he had learned to read Tommy like a book. Or maybe he was being a lot less secretive than he thought he was. 

“I know it’s hard, after everything you’ve been through-” 

“There’s nothing hard about it. I’m fine, I’m not avoiding Tubbo, I’m busy with-” 

“Tommy look at you!” His voice was raised, and Tommy fell silent, dropping the sandwich beside him and hanging his head down in shame. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to voice his thoughts aloud. He didn’t want someone else seeing how weak Tubbo could make him. 

“You look like you haven’t slept in days. Your eyes are always red, and your cheeks raw, like you’ve been crying. When was the last time you showered?” He felt guilty. 

“I know it’s been hard, Tom. I _know_ you’re trying your hardest to pretend like you’re okay, and I know you don’t want to talk to me about it. But it’s not healthy for you to keep holding it all in. And I’m sure that you know this, but you’re fucking stubborn,” he let out a huff of a laugh, turning and setting his glass down on the counter behind him. 

“Tom, I know what Dream did to you. He’s told me all about it. It’ sickening, really. How proud of it all he is. But I’ve been trying so hard to help you through it, to try and fix you as best I can. That’s why I gave you a discount on the hotel construction, it’s why I created Sam Nook, it’s why I kept giving you armor, so you could feel _safe_. I want to help you, Tommy. But you’ve been making it so difficult.” 

He definitely felt guilty for that one. He had refused to open up to Sam about his experiences with Dream, hadn’t even opened up to his best friend about it before he started avoiding him. He didn’t really trust anyone enough to tell them how absolutely _weak_ he had been during his exile. It was a touchy subject, something that still brought forth so many emotions and left him sobbing in his sleep most nights. 

It was something that he wanted to keep between him and Dream, because Dream had been the only person to see how much he had almost lost himself. 

“Tommy, I know you aren’t okay. I can see it every time I see you. Your shoulders sag, you have dark spots under your eyes, you’re not as happy go lucky as you used to be. Though I can see you try your best,” Sam stood up, slowly making his way towards Tommy, who had now wrapped his arms around himself, his lip bitten raw and aching between his teeth, his eyes trying their best to hold back the tears. 

“Tom, I know you need Tubbo. You guys used to be inseparable, he comes to me every once in a while to ask about you. He doesn’t believe the excuses that Jack tells him. He’s worried about you, _really_ worried.” Sam stood in front of Tommy, his hands coming up to rest on Tommy’s shaking shoulders. Was he being selfish? Was he being selfish by distancing himself from Tubbo? Was this doing more harm than good? 

Was he ruining the one thing that was keeping him together? 

Or was Sam trying to guilt trip him? Was Sam just tired of seeing Tommy and Tubbo sulk around, tired of being visited by both of them when they had nobody else to go to. 

But Sam wasn’t like that. He cared about Tommy, and he cared about Tubbo. So was Tommy being selfish? Was he wrong for distancing himself for Tubbo’s sake? Was he wrong for putting his best friends well-being before his own? 

“Tom, look at me,” he waited for a few seconds as Tommy raised his head, holding back tears and shaking. “Why are you avoiding him?” 

He didn’t want to be selfish anymore. 

“Because he’s my best friend.” Sam frowned at the answer, his hand squeezing Tommy’s shoulder and he raised an eyebrow in question. 

“I don’t think that’s a good reason to avoid someone.” It was true, but it also went so much deeper than that. 

“I put him in danger that day, Sam,” he mumbled, his gaze dropping again and his head body slouching forward, into Sam’s arms. Same didn’t waste a second, wrapping his arms around Tommy and hugging him closely. 

“I’m the reason Dream almost killed him,” he was crying now. “I was the reason he was dragged into the situation in the first place. Dream knew how much I cared about Tubbo, he knew that I would do anything to protect tubbo. Everyone knows that now,” a sob ripped itself from his throat and he buried his face into Sam’s chest, grabbing the front of the man’s shirt and trying to pull him closer. It had been so long since someone had comforted him, since someone had held him. He was used to crying by himself, to being wrapped up in his blankets and sobbing into the material. 

“Tommy-” 

“Everyone here hates me, Sam! They’ll try to get rid of me, they’ll use Tubbo against me… I can’t put him through that.” Another sob fell through, and he could feel his tears soaking through Sam’s t-shirt. “They’ll… They’ll hurt him. You know I can’t let them do that…” 

Sam sighed and rubbing Tommy’s back soothingly, letting Tommy cling to him and cry, shaking and trying to wrap himself around Sam as much as he could. He could feel his heart break at the sight and the sound, but Tommy kept pulling him closer, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist and hugging him tightly, sobbing into his shirt. He needed this. Needed to cry, needed to be held, needed to be comforted. He hadn’t been held since he had started avoiding Tubbo. 

“Is that why you’re avoiding him?” Tommy nodded against his chest, his hands forming fists full of Sam’s shirt, trying to ground himself. 

“He deserves to be happy, Sam…” He sounded broken. He sounded weak. But he was with Sam, so he didn’t care. Sam was like a dad to him, was his pillar during these times. Was his most trusted person, aside from Tubbo. 

“I know he does,” Sam agreed, pressing his cheek against Tommy’s hair, hugging him tighter. 

“He can’t do that with me around. All I do is cause problems, I make him hurt. I’m the reason his country was destroyed, I’m the reason Dream was ever a threat to him,” and it was true. He was always taunting Dream, he had burned down George’s house, he was the one who betrayed Techno and got L’Manberg blown up. He let Dream manipulate him and pull him down to his weakest state. If he had just been stronger… 

“Tom, he’s your best friend. You’re _supposed_ to cause problems with him,” Sam said, pulling Tommy away gently, grabbing his face and forcing him to look up at him. Tommy sniffed loudly, knowing he probably looked like a wreck, but oftening when he saw the sincerity in Sam’s eyes. “You guys have been attached at the hip since the day I met you. I’ve almost never seen you guys apart, or not one the way to see each other.” 

“I know it hurts to know that he was so ready to die for you that day. I know it hurts to know that he was ready to leave you, and I know it scares you. But I assure you, Tommy, he can’t be happy without you.” That one had to have been a lie. “He’s always stressed, he can’t sit still these days. He knows something is up. He never stops talking about you, trying to find ways to get you to go back to Snowchester with him.” 

Sam stopped for a moment, moving his hands back down to Tommy’s shoulder’s, which were shaking again as more tears fell down his cheeks at Sam’s words. 

“Tommy, you guys are two halves of one whole. You _need_ each other. I’ve seen it. You guys are absolutely nothing without the other. You guys work the best, fight the best, laugh the best when you’re by each other's sides.” 

Tommy couldn’t take it, falling back into Sam’s chest with a loud sob and an aching chest. He knew all these things. Knew how important they were to each other. He knew that he was absolutely nothing without Tubbo, knew that he needed his best friend by his side. Tubbo was all the good in his life, was the person he loved and trusted the most. He denied it for so long, but they were so much happier by each other's sides. It was a given. Everyone knew it. So he cried, got it off his chest in the best way he knew possible. 

His crying went on for a few minutes, wherein Sam held him close and rubbed soothing circles into his back. 

“Tommy, nobody is gonna use Tubbo against you,” Sam spoke up when Tommy’s cries had calmed down a bit, still clinging tightly to Sam and sniffling. “Everyone here loves you guys, I promise it. It’s just… During that fight, and before, everyone was confused. They didn’t know how messed up Dream was, didn’t know what you had been put through. But when they heard you that day, when they saw how shaky you were around him that day… I can assure you that the important people understood.” 

It was a promise, Tommy could hear it in his voice. He always believed Sam, knew the older would never lie to him, especially not when it was something this important. 

“I know how much Tubbo means to you. He means a lot to me too. But I promise, I will _never_ let anybody touch him, okay? You two are like my kids, I’m not letting anybody hurt you two ever again.” 

Relief flooded through Tommy’s bones, his body sagging against Sam’s and earning him a warm laugh as he started crying again, though not as hard this time. _He had been being selfish_. 

Sam continued to rub his back, letting Tommy calm down slowly. He must have known how much Tommy needed this, being patient with him and muttering encouraging words into his hair. It left Tommy feeling warm and loved. It left him feeling like he was being comforted by a parent. 

And he was. Sam was as close to a good parent as he was going to get. He had no problem with it, knew that he could trust Sam with anything and everything, knew that he could always go to Sam for help or comfort or reassurance. 

It took a few minutes, but Tommy had finally calmed down enough to pull away and wipe at his face, rubbing away the tear and snot that had made themselves present during his crying session. Sam was nice enough to get him a few tissues and watch with a smile as Tommy blew his nose into them before throwing them into the trash can beside them. 

“All good?” Tommy nodded, a small, embarrassed smile presenting itself on his lips. Sam smiled back, patting his shoulder before walking back to hsi glass of milk. They were silent again as Sam went about emptying his glass and cleaning it, before grabbing his green jacket from the counter. 

“Well, I’ll leave you then. Just needed to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.” Tommy rolled his eyes and flipped Sam the finger, earning a laugh from the older as he made his way towards the door. Tommy thought he would stay in the kitchen for a bit. Clean himself up, hopefully get his appetite back. 

The thought of eating made him feel sick right now, but he knew that he needed to eat, though he no longer thought he could hold down solid food. Not after that gross crying session he just went though. He felt gross and sticky, should honestly probably go shower and change out of his sweaty clothes before he ate anything, but his growling stomach said otherwise. 

“Oh yeah,” Sam popped his head back into the kitchen, causing Tommy to stop in his tracks on his trip back to the fridge, sandwich in his hand, wrapped back up for saving. He would probably eat it for lunch tomorrow and instead choose a soup for tonight. 

“Someone else is here to see you.” He ducked back out, and Tommy frowned in confusion. It had to have been past midnight at this point, right? He surely felt like he had been crying for at least an hour, if his aching eyes and chest were anything to go by. He stared at the door, heart pounding it opened and an oh so familiar figure pulled it open, stepping inside rather hesitantly. 

Tubbo stood in front of him, eyes glassy and bottom lip wobbly as he wrung his hands together and let the door swing shut behind him. 

Tommy felt a handful of emotions push themselves up his throat, the sandwich dropping from his hands as he stared at his best friend with wide, worried eyes. Tubbo looked like he had been crying, if his red eyes and cheeks were anything to go by. Had he been sitting out there this whole time? Surely not, since Tommy had come through that door when entering the kitchen. Unless Sam had hid him…

That motherfucker. 

Tubbo looked healthy, which relieved Tommy. He was dressed in the brown clothes that everyone in Snowchester adorned, though he had taken off the thick jacket and hat. His cheeks were red, his hair fluffy and messed up. It reminded Tommy of those nights they would stay up in his room, voices hushed as they whispered secrets to each other, laughing and leaning against one another. 

“Do you want me to leave? It looks like you want me to leave,” Tubbo said, backing up slightly, nervousness lacing itself in his voice and causing his hands to shake as he averted his gaze. Tommy felt a pang of guilt stab through his chest, and he shook himself from his shock. 

Tubbo looked about ready to leave, but it only took Tommy a couple large steps for him to be in front of Tubbo, who continued to look down at his boots, his hands clenched at his sides. Tommy had almost forgotten about the big height difference between them. Tubbo was almost a foot shorter, his head barely reached past Tommy’s shoulder, and he had always been proud of it. It meant he could protect his idiot best friend more. 

“Tommy?” The one word finally pushed Tommy to wrap his arms around his best friend, pulling him close and squeezing him tight. Tubbo hesitated at first, a gasp leaving his lips when Tommy suddenly pulled him close, but he was quick to wrap his arms around Tommy’s waist and pull him just as close. 

“I’m so sorry,” Tommy whispered, shoving his face into Tubbo’s hair, silent tears falling from his already stinging eyes. Tubbo sobbed against his chest, giving him an appreciative squeeze and grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, probably in an effort to stop his sobs, which were wracking his body and leaving Tommy feeling even more guilty than he already did. 

“Don’t leave me like that again, you dick,” Tubbo whispered, causing them both to laugh and Tommy to roll his eyes. He was sure that Tubbo had heard everything, and given that he hadn’t beaten Tommy to a pulp already, he must not have been _that_ mad about it. 

“I know, I know. No promises though.” 

Tubbo smacked his shoulder, before squeezing again. They stood like that for a while, appreciating one another's warmth and presence. Tommy felt the most relaxed he had been in a while, hugging his best friend and inhaling that familiar honey scent that still stuck despite his bees having gotten loose during L’manberg’s destruction. 

When they did eventually pull away, Tubbo making a fuss about the loud growl Tommy’s stomach let out immediately after, they sat side by side at the counter. Tubbo had whipped up some warm soup for them to share, letting them eat it straight from the pot with some spoons. 

They were silent for a bit, slurping at their soup and pressing their shoulders together. It felt nice to be this close to his best friend again, to see that he was okay and safe. It was weird how mappy he could feel now, sitting next to Tubbo, eating warm soup in silence, compared to the last two months of his almost constant moping. 

“How has the business been going?” Tubbo asked, his eyes flickering over to Tommy’s hand, watching as he raised the spoon to his lips and ate the soup. Tommy shrugged, dropping his spoon into the pot and crossing his arms to lean forward against the metal counter. It was cold against his bare arms, but he didn’t really mind. All of that crying earlier had left him feeling way too warm for comfort. 

“Good, I guess. We have a couple people staying here already, they got situated this afternoon and have mostly just been moving their things into their rooms since then.” Tubbo nodded at his words, shoving another mouthful of soup into his mouth before he continued. 

“That’s nice, that’s nice. Jack talks about it all the time, so i kind of figued you were a big shot over here now.” They both laughed at that, shoulders bouncing against each other and leaving them feeling content. 

“What about you? Snowchester doing good?” Tubbo nodded in answer, stirring the brown soup absentmindedly and smiling gently. 

“Yeah, it’s going well! Puffy moved in recently, so we’ve been getting her settled. Nobody really messes with us, so that’s great. It’s really peaceful, actually. Who knew not having a government would make things easier…” He bit his lip after that sentence, his hand stopping its movements. Tommy knew how much being president had affected Tubbo. It had affected every president. Had sent Wilbur into a depression, changed Schlatt, changed Tubbo… 

“That’s good to hear,” Tommy spoke up, knocking their knees together to tell Tubbo to forget about it. 

“Yeah, I’m really proud of it. You should come visit sometime! I’m sure everyone would love it.” Tommy nodded in reply, biting his own lip. He still wasn’t sure if he would ever go there, if he would feel comfortable in doing so. He was still iffy about snow. 

“Are we going to talk?” Tubbo suddenly asked, tapping his spoon against the handle of the pot, using his free hand to rest his head against, turning in his seat slightly to look at Tommy, who had set his own spoon down to give his friend his full attention. 

He knew he was going to need to talk to Tubbo, that maybe now was the time to open up about the things that had happened to him during exile, and afterward. But there was still something holding him back from it, something that was telling him to just keep it to himself, or water it down. He knew that Tubbo would feel guilty for it all. Tubbo was the one who exiled him in the first place, he would surely blame himself for the things that happened to Tommy throughout his time away. Tommy didn’t think he could handle Tubbo blaming himself. 

“Can it be later? I’m tired, and I haven’t gotten a good night's worth of sleep in a while,” as if to prove it, his eyes began to droop without his permission. Tiredness seeped into his bone and he leaned against Tubbo, resting his head on the olders shoulder. Tubbo sighed, setting hid spoon down and nodding, though he shrugged Tommy’s head off of his shoulder. 

Tommy sat back up with a groan, glaring at his friend, who stood up and brought the pot to the sink before coming back and grabbing Tommy by the arm, pulling him out of his seat and dragging him towards the door. Tommy assumed that Tubbo would bring him up to his room then go back to Snowchester, leaving them to talk tomorrow. 

But instead, Tubbo grabbed Tommy’s high tops from where he had left them behind the front desk, chucking them at his friend and crossing his arms. Tommy stared at them in confusion, flipping them over as if there was some secret written into them. What the hell was he supposed to do with his shoes if they were just gonna go upstairs? 

“You’re coming back with me to Snowchester. I can’t trust you to not run off somewhere after I leave to avoid all of this.” Of course. Why was Tommy not surprised? He had gotten used to his friend bossing him around, was honestly too tired to argue with him as well. So he flopped to the floor and shoved his shoes on, not even bothering to tie the laces before he stood back up and allowed Tubbo to drag him out the door and in the direction of Snowchester. 

He felt content, walking through the night, Tubbo’s hand wrapped firmly around his wrist, the cool air settling into his skin. He felt content being by Tubbo’s side again after so long, knowing that he would finally have someone to open up to when they woke up tomorrow. He reckoned that he would actually sleep pretty well tonight, in the warmth and safety of Tubbo’s house, surrounded by the walls that Tubbo had built to keep his nation safe. 

It reminded him of those old L’Manberg days, when Tommy would stumble in through the walls of L’manberg, all beaten up after a night of fighting off monsters that were annoying him. Tubbo would pull him into his room when he would catch sight of Tommy coming through the entrance of the walls, force him to sit on his desk chair while he cleaned up all of Tommy’s wounds and joked around with him to ease the tension in his shoulders. 

Maybe he didn’t need to go back to the old days to feel at one with his best friend.


	2. tubbo - distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo doesn't understand why Tommy has been avoiding him. He begins to blame himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still suck with dialogue, so I'm sorry lol

Tubbo didn’t know what he was doing wrong. 

He was worried sick, constantly stressed, almost always away from his home in an effort to catch at least a glimpse of his best friend. They hadn’t spoken, hadn't’ even shared a glance in nearly two months, always away from each other, always too busy. 

Well, _Tommy_ was too busy. He always was. He had made the excuse of wanting to surprise Tubbo with the hotel at first, then when the hotel was done, he started making excuses that ranged from being too busy with his hotel to traveling far distances for supplies or just to get away from the hell that was the Dream SMP. 

Tubbo knew how tiring it could be, running his own place, especially after everything they had gone through within the past year and a half. He knew that Tommy had it hard, knew that he was trying his best to sort through things by himself. But Tubbo also knew that he couldn't do it alone, no matter how hard he tried. 

Tommy had never been good with voicing his emotions, and would often take quite a while before he would seek out Tubbo and actually talk to him. Though it never took more than a few days to get Tommy to speak up, to move over in bed and let Tommy get in, their shoulders pressed together and their eyes tracing the cracks in the ceiling. 

Wilbur would often find them the next morning, their backs turned from one another and sleeping peacefully, a smile on his face as he would finally feel some relief in knowing that Tommy had stopped bottling up emotions. Then the teenagers would wake up and pretend like nothing had happened, going about their days. 

Which is why Tubbo didn’t understand why Tommy _still_ hadn’t talked to him. They were supposed to be best friends, brothers even. Tubbo was there for him for everything, had apologized over and over again and expressed his infinite guilt about exiling Tommy. He regretted ever thinking that he would be happier saving the nation that had been left in his hands over his best friend. 

But he wanted to be there for him again. That’s why he went with Tommy to meet Dream even though he was terrified. That’s why he was so okay with dying that day. Maybe it would have made everything that was done to him during exile that much easier. Tubbo was to blame for the things that Tommy went through during those months, was the reason Tommy had to resort to helping Techno. Why L’Manberg was destroyed… 

His head ached just thinking about it. 

Maybe he needed to start taking more headache medicine. They were getting worse these days, turning his brain to mush and leaving him crying quietly in his bed. He didn’t know where they had come from, when they had started exactly. But they had gotten a million times worse and more frequent since Tommy had left his side. 

Jack had tried his best to whip up potions that would help, but they only ever lasted a few minutes before his head was aching again. He had gotten quite used to the minor ones, being able to stop flinching and getting angry when his friends were too loud around him, but the bigger ones… 

They hurt. They left him locking his door and screaming at people when they would attempt to bother him. He would sob into his pillow, the tears making it worse but only causing him to cry even harder. The crying and the pain that would resonate through his skull would often end with him falling asleep, gross and sweaty in his sheets. Jack or Puffy would have to force their way into his house the morning after, coax him out of bed, shove him gently into the bathroom and wait silently in his kitchen for him to shower and take his medicine. 

He was grateful to have friends that cared about him, was lucky to have people that looked after him after all the bullshit he had put them through as their president. 

He knew that he had done a horrible job as the president. He was probably even worse than Schlatt. At least under Schlatt’s rule, the people had been happy. They were never suffering, save for Niki. But she had left L’Manberg long ago, far before it was blown up. Even Wilbur had done better than Tubbo, despite his eventual betrayal that still left Tubbo feeling sad and heartbroken. 

Tubbo had not just gotten a smidge of L’Manberg blown up, hadn’t gotten a bit blown up that was easily replaceable or could be built around. He had lost the trust of his best friend's father, had lost the trust of most of his friends, had gotten into countless arguments and had caused his best friend to come back to him fragile and damaged. 

He was the reason Tommy wasn’t opening up, and he was the reason that L’Manberg was a giant pit to hell. 

He missed it sometimes, L’Manberg. It had been his home for long, so much had happened on that land, so many memories were made, so many lives were lost… It was something that he had hoped to keep safe after Wilbur died. He had made a promise to himself to make it better, to make the people happy, to never let what had happened in the past get to him or be remembered by the people. He wanted to start a new era of peace, to show people that they could get through anything without violence. 

But that had changed when his cabinet started putting ideas and thoughts into his head. When Quackity was so overrun with revenge that he was pushing Tubbo to follow his ideas. When Fundy was slowly going insane after his fathers death and went along with the things that Quackity was pushing on them. 

Tubbo had never been good at leading. He was a follower, trailing behind his superiors or his best friend. Nobody listened to him, nobody took him seriously. He thought that his time as president would change, that he would finally be able to get his thoughts and opinions out there, that people would _finally_ listen to him, because now _he_ was in the place of power, above everyone else. He was in charge of an entire country that he had helped build up with his best friend and his brother. 

But it didn’t. He still followed Quackity’s every word, he still went after Technoblade even though he wasn’t really all that mad at him anymore. He sat back and watched as his best friend ran around wrecking havoc, neither of them really paying attention to what the consequences were. 

The one time he had pushed past everyone, ignored their pleas and ideas, was when he had exiled Tommy. That clearly hadn’t gone as he planned. He had been sure during that time that he would at least be able to visit Tommy as much as he wanted, had even considered dropping from his place of power and trailing after his friend, exiling himself with Tommy. 

After that, he left the decision making to the others of his cabinet. He blamed himself, he pushed himself to follow them. This was why he didn’t make decisions on his own. His decisions only caused pain and left him and others feeling empty. He had considered many times going against Dream’s words and going to visit Tommy anyway. He knew Ranboo had gone once, and was leaving Tommy little notes, claiming that he wanted to make sure that Tommy knew he wasn’t alone, that he had at least one person who missed him. 

Tubbo remembers feeling angry at how many people were treating Tommy’s exile like a good thing. There were handfuls of people celebrating, claiming that he was better off out of their hair. They were convinced that life was easier without them, and them voicing these opinions left Tubbo fuming. He would often stomp into his house after hearing people expressing their gratitude to him for exiling his best friend, angry and hurting. 

He hated that anybody hated Tommy. Tommy was the most selfless person Tubbo had ever met, and he regrets having ever called him selfish. Because he knew he was just being mean, was just trying to put a leash on Tommy to keep him at bay because they were the president and vice president. Tommy had been through so much, walked side by side with his insane brother because he refused to leave him by himself, even when he was spouting bullshit. He had given up his discs to keep L’Manberg and gain their independence. He had been angry in Tubbo’s place when Technoblade had killed him during the festival. 

Even now, he had gone through so much bullshit. Bullshit that Tubbo didn’t know about, but knew was there. He could see it in the way they would go for long walks sometimes, and Tommy would start shaking slightly and getting fidgety when they were anywhere near a plain biome. He was it in the way they would sometimes come across big pillars, because Tubbo felt it too. The panic a single pillar could bring. He remembered the day he had thought Tommy was dead so vividly… 

He just wished Tommy would open up to him. He had opened up to Tommy, had spoken of the things he had done while Tommy was gone, expressed his guilt of the exile, cried and sobbed into Tommy’s shoulder as he tried to voice out how scared he was to be anywhere without Tommy. 

Now they hadn’t talked to each other in months, and Tubbo _still_ didn’t know why. They had promised to see each other at least once a week, to put their responsibilities aside for at least one day so that they could see each other and relax. Tubbo had been looking forward to it, especially after Tommy had shot down his offer of going to live in Snowchester. He needed to be able to see at the very least once a week that Tommy was alive and okay and not hurting and in danger. 

Tubbo didn’t know what he would do with himself if Tommy were to leave him. If Tommy were to lose his last life, to leave Tubbo behind. The thought scared him, and that was why he was always so anxious when he couldn’t get a sight of his friend. He had been filled with nerves and anxiety for the past two months, spending way too much time at Tommy’s hotel, not spending enough time in his own nation. 

Jack always assured him that Tommy was perfectly fine, a little mopey at times, but otherwise fine. He was just super busy with work and making the hotel as perfect as he could. It made sense, Tommy was always a hard worker. He put pride and work into the things he cared about, and from what he had told Tubbo about the hotel, this was something that he definitely cared about. It was meant to house the people who needed it, the people who had no homes right now, or were currently in construction. He admired Tommy for that. Tubbo just brought people to a piece of land and told them to build. 

That didn’t change the fact that he was proud of his little nation. 

No matter how many times Jack Manifold tells him that Tommy is fine though, he never believes him. He can see the concern written in Jack’s eyes, can see how worried he himself is. Tubbo sometimes see’s Sam come around while he talks to Jack at the front desk, giving the two a brisk wave before starting up the stairs that lead to the top floor. 

Tubbo took note that Tommy was said to live on the top floor of the hotel. He would often stay with Jack for entire afternoons or shifts, hoping to see Tommy at some point. If he was so busy, he would need to pass through the first floor a few times, right? 

Wrong, Tubbo hadn’t seen so much as a glimpse of him for two months. 

But he had picked up on Jack telling customers that the top floor was occupied, every single time. Plus, Tommy’s house was always empty these days. A layer of dust was coating the tables and dishes when he would let himself in, and he had thought for a while that Tommy had up and left. Though when Jack said that he saw Tommy everyday, Tubbo had realized that he was being avoided. 

He had caught on pretty quickly, after Jack had brought home a few short notes from Tommy, his sloppy handwriting scrawling across the page and expressing his apologies for not being able to meet. Tubbo had at first assumed that owning a business was a lot more work than recreating your country, but after a few more notes of Tomm saying he couldn’t meet, it was pretty obvious that he was being avoided. 

He was confused about it at first, was _still_ confused about it. Had he done something to make Tommy hate and avoid him? Was it something he had said? Or was Tommy just tired of him? Had he finally decided that he didn’t need Tubbo as much as he thought? Had he finally figured out that he could be whatever the hell he wanted to be when Tubbo was out of the picture? 

Those questions often kept him up at night, left him feeling empty and thrown aside. But then he would assure himself that he was being overdramatic, that Tommy just needed space and was genuinely busy with his business. It hurt to think that Tommy had put other things above Tubbo, while Tubbo still kept Tommy as his top priority, ready to drop everything for his best friend, but he had learned to accept it. He thought he was being selfish for thinking such things about his selfless best friend. 

He just missed Tommy. More than words could express. 

It was like that exile period all over again. Tubbo couldn’t focus, was always drifting in and out from reality and fantasy of having run away with Tommy all those months ago. Puffy would often tell him to stay home, or to go visit Jack when she noticed he was getting a little too shaky and disorganized, assuring him that she could handle any construction or meetings that were to be held. He would always thank her profusely, suffocate her in hugs, and then run off with his trident in hand towards Tommy’s hotel. 

He almost felt like he was working at the hotel half the time, he was there so often. He would help bring customers to their rooms when Jack was too busy, or would deliver meals to their designated person. He would help cook sometimes as well, laughing and joking with the kitchen staff. Sometimes he would strike up a conversation with Sam when he would drop by. 

He also went to visit Sam quite a bit. When he couldn’t stand to be near anything that reminded him too much of Tommy, he would make the long trip through the nether towards Sam’ house, a basket in hand filled with goodies and sandwiches for them to munch on while they caught up or made plans to build something together. Sam seemed to like his company well enough, relaxing from his mean prison warden personality and back into the Sam who was sweet and kind and caring. 

Tubbo felt especially safe with Sam, laughing and talking with him, easing his mind and his headaches, which he would bring up often times. Sam had expressed a lot of worry over it, to which Tubbo had stopped bringing it up. He knew Sam had enough to stress about already, with Dream in the prison and his sudden fatherhood for Tommy. Though Sam often supplied him with headache reducing potions, which Tubbo would lie and say worked well, even if they only relieved his pain for a few minutes before wearing off. 

He would express to Sam how much he missed Tommy, going on and on about the things that he wished to tell Tommy, the things he missed or craved. Sam would sit and listen, or would be building while Tubbo sits a few feet away, talking his ear off and earning laughs every once in a while. 

He liked that Sam listened to him. He would often take Tubbo’s ideas into consideration, or write down notes for something that Tubbo thought would be a cool build. Oftentimes Tubbo would leave Sam with an idea, then come back a week later just to see the exact build he had described sitting on the land, proud and shining in the sun. Tubbo could never express how happy the little gestures made him, and would often just hug Sam until the older would jokingly push him off. 

When asked, Sam would try and tell Tubbo of the things that Tommy had been up to. It was how Tubbo had found out that Tommy had visited the prison at some point, a few days after Dream had been shoved in there. It had left Tubbo with an empty feeling in his chest having to hear that news through someone that wasn’t his best friend, but he had quickly gotten over it. Tommy wasn’t required to tell him everything, even though he dearly and truly wished that he would.

Sam would also express his own concerns over Tommy. He would never go into specifics of why he was concerned or worried, but Tubbo knew that it was just fatherly instinct that hadn’t come out until he had brought Tommy under his wing. 

Tubbo was happy that Tommy was able to replace his absent father, who was never blood related to him in the first place, with someone that he trusted and kept him safe. If Tubbo were to trust anybody with the well being of his best friend, it would always be Sam. He was so understanding, and he took great care of Tubbo all the time, he knew that he was a person that Tommy really needed. He knew that he was the person that Tommy needed right now, not Tubbo. He wasn’t mad about it either. Tubbo knew that he could be overbearing sometimes, knew that he could be clingy and too much. It was also just nice to know that there were other people that didn’t hate Tommy. 

Tommy didn’t deserve any of the hate that he received. He was the reason the people were finally free from Dream’s reign, that people were able to live peacefully and move about anywhere they wanted. Tommy had sacrificed so much for these people, and it hurt Tubbo to know that anybody could betray him at any second just because they saw him as some problem child that only thought of himself. 

Truthfully, Tubbo thought everyone single adult on the Dream SMP was selfish, aside from Sam and Puffy. They were always pushing to put the blame of things going wrong on either Tommy or Tubbo. They were so eager to blame Tommy for losing one of their lives, or the death of someone else. They were so quick to blame the actions of two teenagers who didn’t know what they were doing for the things that were going wrong. 

It wasn’t fair, to say the least. It was all of their faults for making Dream think he had more power than he actually did. It was their fault for not defending themselves against Dream when he was threatening their country, instead turning to a then sixteen year old who had never led a nation in his life, who had not a single idea what he was supposed to do, who was already so broken and in pieces at such a young age.

Tubbo thought that some of these adults should take responsibility for their own faults. He was tired of hearing people blame him and Tommy for the fall of L’Manberg, for Schlatt and Wilbur’s deaths, for Technoblades betrayal, for Dream’s sudden turn to the dark side. It was selfish and stupid of them. They were trying to blame two traumatized kids who had been raised on war and violence because they were too afraid to blame themselves and see the fault in their own actions. 

Tubbo was tired of it. That’s why he had only taken the people he trusted and brought them to his new nation. 

That’s why he had broken off various friendships, why he had pushed away a handful of people. 

He lost trust in a lot of the people that he used to consider friends. The biggest example being Quackity. 

After he had tried to convince Tubbo to execute Ranboo in front of everyone, Tubbo knew he had to push Quackity away. He remembered seeing red when the words had fallen from the boy's mouth, remembered feeling anger boiling in his bones as he remembered his own public execution, at the festival that _he_ had decorated and planned for. Ranboo was one of his closest friends, someone that Tubbo trusted his life with. He knew that Ranboo would never willingly betray him, knew that they should sit down and have a talk about his actions, about the book that Quackity apparently had. 

But they had never gotten to that, and Tubbo didn’t even know if Ranboo had ever gotten his book back. He hoped so, knew that Ranboo had problems with his memories and needed that book to keep track of the things that he did, and why he did them. 

But after that day, when he had exploded his emotions at Quackity and left the boy staring in shame at the ground, he had pushed their friendship away. He had no more trust for Quackity, and vowed to never follow in his footsteps again. 

He had reminded Tubbo of Schlatt that day, and it left him feeling disgusted. 

But he was over that now. Sure, he still didn’t trust Quackity, would never willingly let the man on his land, but he was still over it. He never really saw Ranboo much either, other than when the boy would walk hurriedly past Old L’Manberg, his expression blank and his eyes glazed over. 

Thankfully he was always too busy with Snowchester to really think about the friendships he had lost. He had been making almost daily updates to the nation, building new ways of transportation or adding upgrades to things already built. He was very proud of the nation that he had built, a lot more proud of it than he had been of L’Manberg. 

Maybe it was because this was somewhere that _he_ himself had built. He had made the first house here, had personally invited people to live with him and know the location of this place he had found safety in after losing his previous nation. He was rather ecstatic to know that there were other people who had wanted to live with him, watching and helping happily as they built up their own homes and expressed interest in his ideas. 

He had even occupied himself with those damn nukes for a few days. Though it had turned out that he didn’t need them in the end, their purpose of intimidating Dream into giving Snowchester its independence going down the drain when Dream was put into prison. It was still fun to have experimented with something, to take his mind off the things that were bugging him, namely the idea that Tommy was avoiding him. 

He groaned as he was once again thinking about his friend, kicking a rock that was in his path as he trudged towards Sam’s house. He was in the middle of the nether, outer winter layers left at Tommy’s old house when he had passed by because he knew that he was going to be sweating his ass off on the way to Sam’s house. 

Sam had radio’d him a few hours ago, while Tubbo was at the hotel chatting up Jack and trying to peek around and get a sight of Tommy. He had said that he wanted to talk to Tubbo about something, and to head over around mid afternoon, a few hours before the sun would set on them. Tubbo had been kind of confused at first, and he had shared a raised eyebrow with Jack, but otherwise agreed that he would meet Sam at his place in a few hours. 

He had left his heavy jacket and hat with Jack at the front desk, not wanting to make his way back home just to drop them off before needing to make the annoying journey through the nether to get to his friends house. Not even the ice on the expressway was enough to cool down his heated skin as he grumbled along the path that led to the portal that would lead to Sam’s humble abode. 

Waves of fire surrounded the path around him, rising high into the air and licking the roof above him. It lef this skin feeling sticky and his hand to repeatedly, and rather annoyingly, wiped sweat off of his brow before the trails would fall into his eyes and leave him half blind as they stung. It had happened one too many times, and he would often stop in his tracks in an effort to scrub the sweat from his eyes, which would lead to him getting even more sweat in his eyes, and then he would sit there in a never ending cycle. 

His mind was racing as he tried to rack his brain with the possibilities of what Sam could possibly want to talk about. Usually Sam would say why he wanted Tubbo over, whether it was to help with a build or to have a cup of tea with someone familiar. Tubbo took great pride in being Sam’s first choice when it came to such things, deeming Sam as one of his favorite people on the Dream SMP land. 

But this time Sam had just told Tubbo to meet him in a few hours and then turned off his radio. It left him feeling kind of stressed, and he had occupied his afternoon with helping out and distracting Jack as much as possible to rid himself of the anxiety eating at his insides. He didn’t know if he had done something wrong, or if Sam had some bad news to report to him about Dream or Techno. 

Jack had done his best to assure Tubbo that it was probably nothing major, and Tubbo had put on a fake smile and simply hoped that Jack’s words were right. 

By the time he stumbles through the entrance to Sam’s house, the walls moving back into place behind him, he’s quick to head directly towards the kitchen and grabbing a water while calling out Sam’s name to let his presence be known. 

“In my room!” He yells back, poking his head out and motioning Tubbo over. The younger took a long swig from his bottle, feeling a little better seeing that Sam wasn’t acting weird. In fact, he had looked normal, a lazy smile on his face and a pair of pajamas. 

Tubbo stopped in front of the olders doorway, leaning against the frame and widening his eyes when he saw how… messy the room was. The rest of Sam’s house was always relatively clean, shelves stacked neatly with books on buildings and designs, corners piled with small building materials or carpets that Sam hadn’t gotten around to laying out yet. His kitchen was spotless, the sink holding the occasional dish that they were too lazy to clean when Tubbo was over. 

The halls and other bedrooms were set to perfection, bed made and nothing laying on the floor. Sam had framed pictures of him and all of his friends lined up on the walls, though Tubbo had taken note that he had taken down the ones that had Dream in them, or colored over Dream in group pictures. Tubbo didn’t blame him, he knew what it felt like to be betrayed by a friend, though Tubbo eventually got his friend back, even if it was after a fist fight and some harsh words that neither of them meant. 

But Sam’s room was… Another story, compared to the rest of his house. Tubbo had never actually seen it, since the pair would usually just come inside to eat real quick and then go walk around the rest of the land. It was surprising, really, to see the clothes scattered across the floor, the messy, unmade bed with the sheets coming off the top right corner. There were a few plates stacked up on his desk, and his warden outfit was hung up on a stand next to it. Sam was stood in the middle of the room, shoving a pair of socks over his feet before disappearing behind a divider, muttering under his breath as his pajama pants flew across the room. 

“What are you doing, exactly?” Tubbo asked, twisting the cap back onto his water and trying his best to not judge the state of his friends room. Tommy used to be super messy too before they had started sharing a house before that last fight with Dream. Though Tubbo had been quick to make a rule that everything needed to be cleaned up after it was used, he was sure that by now Tommy had gone back to his ways of throwing his old clothes into random corners and only washing them when he ran out of clean material. 

“We are going to see Tommy tonight,” Sam replied, his head popping over the divider, and catching Tubbo’s wide eyed expression. How the hell had Sam managed that? Tommy would never show up even when Tubbo would go pick up Jack after his shift some nights. He wouldn’t even properly reply to the notes and letters that Tubbo would leave him, only replying that he was busy instead of answering questions or writing an actual letter back. 

It honestly left Tubbo feeling gloomy and upset most days, but he would get over it and toss the short one sentence note into the pile that had been olleting on his desk. 

“We are?” He questioned, fidgeting with the bottle in his hand. 

“We are. He doesn’t know it yet, but we are.” That made more sense. Tubbo knew that Tommy was avoiding him, knew that he wouldn’t want to see him willingly. It only made sense that Sam was going to drag Tubbo there at a time that he knew Tommy would be out of his room and roaming about the hotel. 

“How do you plan on doing that?” Sam came back around the divider, now adorned in a pair of dark jeans and a long sleeved, green shirt. 

“Jack has said that Tommy hasn’t been eating while he was there, suspects that he waits until he knows everyone is gone before he wonders out and devours half the kitchen. We’ll wait for him there for a bit, I’ll talk to you, then leave you two to talk.” He was gonna leave Tubbo there to talk to Tommy by himself? What if Tommy didn’t want to talk to him? What if he made Tubbo leave the hotel? Broke off their friendship? Told Tubbo that he didn’t want to see him again? 

Sam must have been able to hear his thoughts, turning to Tubbo with a small frown. Tubbo tightened his grip on his water bottle, the plastic crinkling as his foot began to bounce without his permission. 

“Hey, listen, I’m just gonna talk some sense into him. I know he’s been avoiding you for whatever reason. He’s been doing it a bit with me too, just… not as much as he is you. But I know that idiot is making himself miserable.” Tubbo’s eyes shot up to Sam at the words, worry etching at his brows. Tommy was even avoiding Sam? Surely that wasn’t true. Tommy had become rather close to Sam since their fight with Dream. He had hired Sam to build his hotel, and in between collecting supplies for the construction and random conversations he would strike up, the pair had become friends, family even. 

Tubbo had been happy to watch as Tommy finally opened up to other people. He had been so closed off since coming back, kept more to himself and really only hung out with Tubbo before he started avoiding him. It was nice to see him slowly become more comfortable. 

He gently wondered if it was something that had happened during his exile that had caused Tommy to become more scared of being close to people to express his weaknesses. 

“What if he doesn’t even want to talk to us?” Tubbo asked, his grip tightening even more on his water bottle as his eyes followed Sam’s movements, watching the older move over to his bed with his shoes and sitting down at the edge of the mess of blankets and sheets to put his shoes on. 

“I’m not giving him a choice to talk to me. He needs to stop grumbling to himself and being a closed off brat. I’ve… been told things, of what happened to him a little bit. What Dream has done to him....” He trailed off at the words and furrowed his brows, shoving his right foot rather harshly into his shoe. Tubbo waited silently for Sam to finish his sentence, gnawing on his lip. 

“He’s been through a lot, and he needs to talk about it to someone, to someone that he trusts. That’s why you’re coming with.” Tubbo nodded slowly at the words, his gnawing only increasing at the words. The only way Sam’s supposed plan for Tommy to work out was if Tommy even wanted to talk to Tubbo. Surely, if he trusted him enough, Tommy would have already said something, they would have already sat down and had the conversation of what happened to Tommy during the darkest two months of his life.

“I don’t know, Sam. Maybe we should just leave him alone? He seems perfectly fine without me anyway.” It hurt to say it, but it must have been true, right? His business was booming, according to Jack they had laughs all the time and would often hang out together after work. They were the best of buds apparently. Maybe Tommy had replaced him with Jack, someone who was older and hadn’t exiled him and caused him to keep things to himself. 

“Come on, we both know that isn’t true, Tubbo,” Sam argued, shoving his other shoe on before approaching Tubbo with crossed arms and a soft, scolding look. They often had these kinds of conversations, about whether or not Tommy was happier without Tubbo in his life. Sam would always assure Tubbo that his best friend was lost and confused, pushing Tubbo away for a reason that probably went deeper than just ‘I don’t want to be your friend anymore because I’m mean.’ 

“Jack is the one who reached out, man. If _Jack Manifold_ is saying that he’s worried about Tommy, that’s gotta mean something. Plus, I’ve seen him moping about. And the things I’ve been told… Just trust me, Tubbo, I know that he needs you right now.” He reached up and rested his hands on Tubbo’s shoulders as he spoke, leaning down a bit so that they were eye to eye. Tubbo nodded stiffly at the words, letting one side of his mouth lift up in what was hopefully a believable smile. 

He still wasn’t convinced. Tommy would come around in his own time, would open up when _he_ was ready, not when others tried to push it out of him, not when others were pressuring him or threatening him to open up. Tubbo had found that out the hard way when Tommy had been a little too quiet after Wilbur’s death. 

But he also was really desperate to see his best friend again, to hold him close and assure himself that Tommy was alright and safe and not blaming himself for anything that wasn’t his fault. Because none of it was his fault. The exile wasn’t his fault, teaming up with Techno, L’Manberg getting destroyed. None of it was Tommy’s fault. If anything, it was all completely Tubbo’s fault. He was the one who sent TOmmy away in the first place, he was the reason that Dream thought he had way too much power. He should have ignored Dream’s requests and went to visit Tommy anyway.

Maybe then Tommy would have been perfectly fine, wouldn’t be so messed up, wouldn’t be avoiding Tubbo like his life depended on it. 

Tubbo didn’t know when it happened, but somewhere in between his deep thinking, Sam had pulled him close, hugging him tightly and shoving his face into Tubbo’s head of hair. His arms were wrapped safely around Tubbo’s shoulders, and Tubbo absolutely melted. His body tagged against Sam, and he buried his face into the green shirt he was wearing, wrapping his own arms around Sam’s waist and going silent. 

There were very few people that hugged Tubbo. One of them was Tommy, who Tubbo made a point of hugging regularly. They were best friends, and Tubbo loved Tommy more than anything, and he expressed that through physical touch. So hugging was the norm between them. The second was Puffy, who treated Tubbo like he was her child. Her hugs were always warm and comforting, helped to bring him down from panic attacks, or his moments of feeling crazy when he would contemplate sending his nukes to destroy all of his enemies. 

The third was Ranboo. The two had been extremely close at one point, attached at the hip while Tommy was gone, always by each other's side and sharing secrets. Tubbo would show his appreciation for Ranboo’s constant attention with a long hug and pat on the back. Now they weren’t as close, never really spoke unless Ranboo was walking through Old L’Manberg. 

The fourth used to be Wilbur. The older would often give the best hugs, and would hold Tubbo close when he knew he needed it. His hugs were able to make anybody calm down, and could stop someone's cries within seconds. But towards the end of his life, Tubbo no longer felt safe being around Wilbur, let alone being hugged by him. He was always scared of him, scared of the person that he used to call his older brother. 

That’s why he was replaced with Sam. The older was always so safe, so warm and happy. He would hug Tubbo when he would see that his brain was running a thousand miles a minute, would hold him close when he saw that Tubbo was close to breaking again. He appreciated it, really, because he didn’t trust others to be this close to him, to see him this weak. He was supposed to be strong, a better person after having let L’manberg get destroyed. But Sam was like the father he had always craved, and so Tubbo let himself be weak in his presence. 

“You’re gonna be fine kid, I promise.” Sam assured, giving Tubbo an affectionate squeeze before pulling away and grabbing a jacket from the mess on his floor. Tubbo nodded his head, taking a deep breath and a swig from his water bottle. 

They left a few minutes later, both a little nervous, but still determined to get Tommy back. 

\---

Tubbo leaned against the wall outside the hotel’s kitchen, his hand pressed to his mouth as tears fell down his cheeks and collected at his jaw. His heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest a million times over, leaving his chest and throat to ache and his shoulders to bounce with his sobs. 

Listening to Tommy cry behind him, just through the thin wall that separated them, speaking of his fears of both losing Tubbo and endangering the peaceful life Tubbo had told him about a million times, made Tubbo feel a mix of emotions. He was sad because his best friend in the entire world shouldn’t have to distance himself like this just because he wanted Tubbo to be happy. He had told the taller half a million times that they were a package deal, that they needed each other to survive this hell filled world. 

He also felt kind of happy to know to what extremes Tommy would go for him. It was a thing between them, always protecting one another more than they would protect themselves. Tubbo just didn’t think that he deserved the amount of effort that Tommy was putting into his happiness. Tommy deserved this peaceful life just as much as Tubbo did, if not more. He had been through hell and back, had survived so much and then some. He had been through worse things that Tubbo ever did, had witnessed more horrors that this world threw at them. 

Tubbo also felt relieved. He had thought that Tommy had begun to hate him, deep down. Maybe he was getting tired of Tubbo constantly hugging off him, following him around and talking his ear off. Though he knew for a fact most of the time that Tommy had assured him a thousand times over that he didn’t think Tubbo was annoying, sometimes he thought that he genuinely could be. Especially now, when he was trying to just be a teenager again, not knowing how he was supposed to go about it. They had both been raised on war and violence, despite L’Manberg having originally been a country that fought with their words, not weapons. All they knew how to do was cause problems when there was an inconvenience, knew how to start wars when things weren’t going according to plan. 

He still didn’t quite grasp what it was like to be just a normal teenager. Neither did Tommy, he suspected. But it didn’t really matter, because whether they were in the middle of war plans or acquiring supplies, Tommy and Tubbo were always goofy around each other. He sometimes assumed that’s what being a normal teenager was like, but he also worried that he was annoying when he was always bugging people. 

But that didn’t matter now, he was turning eighteen in a few months, would finally be an adult, would hopefully start being taken seriously by others. 

But that didn’t stop him from sinking to the ground in the hallway of his best friends hotel, sobbing into his knees and pulling at his brown hair in an effort to keep himself quiet before his cover was blown. How was he supposed to properly react to this confession? He couldn’t believe that Tommy was sacrificing his own happiness of being by Tubbo’s side, like they had promised, for Tubbo’s own happiness. 

Didn’t Tommy understand that Tubbo was broken without him? They had been through so much together, they fought side by side since day one, they had watched people around them change, grow apart, but they still stuck by each other like they were glued. They had ruled L’manberg together, they had defeated Dream together. Tubbo had spilled his every last secret to Tommy, had bared his soul and gave him his final life to hold in his hands, because he trusted Tommy that much. 

Tommy was his only family, was the only person that Tubbo trusted with anything and everything. Even when he was working with Technoblade, Tubbo was ready to sacrifice it all for Tommy. They had barely survived without each other, almost went insane missing each other. Tommy had said that he used to see Tubbo roaming about Logstedshire a few times despite Tubbo having been all the way in L’Manberg. They still kept their compasses on their person, despite knowing that the other was safe and sound just a few miles away. 

Tubbo could hear Tommy and Sam whispering now, there were no more sounds of crying, some light laugher, but Tubbo still felt like he could cry for the next century. His eyes were burning and when he pulled his face away from his knees, he could see two wet spots in the center of his pants on each knee. His hands were shaky as he wiped his eyes, liquid still pouring down despite his efforts to make them stop. 

His face felt sticky as he harshly wiped at his reddened cheeks, assuming that Sam would come out any second now to collect him and force Tommy to talk to him. He didn’t want to look like a mess, but he assumed that it was too late for that as he tried to swipe his hand through his hair and his fingers caught against a few tangles. 

Shuffling came from the room behind him, and Tubbo quickly stood up, running his fingers harshly through his dark hair in an effort to try and tame it before Sam came through the door. He patted down his clothes as well before wiping at his cheeks again, hoping but knowing otherwise that the tears were gone and he could go in looking as if he wasn’t nearly as affected as people would assume that he was. 

Sam came through the door a few minutes later, shoving his arms into his jacket and wearing a small smile. That must have meant that something went to plan, right? That Tommy wasn’t mad, that he was okay? He turned his attention to Sam, his hands clasped together behind his back as Sam turned his attention to him and immediately frowned. 

“You okay?” he asked quickly, hands raising to wipe at the tears that were still forming and falling down Tubbo’s cheeks. He couldn’t really lie to Sam right now about whether or not he was sad, the very obviously angry red cheeks and tear tracks were enough to go by, but he still nodded his head, leaning into Sam’s touch when he placed his hand on top of Tubbo’s head, warm and safe. It felt like the touch of a parent who genuinely cared about him, unlike the pats that Phil used to award him with when he would get done with his chores. 

“Do you need a hug before I send you in there?” Tubbo didn’t even need to answer before Sam was opening his arms and pulling Tubbo against his chest, wrapping his arms around his shoulders protectively. Tubbo fell apart instantly, clinging to Sam’s strong figure and burying his face in Sam’s chest as he started crying again. 

Sam didn’t say anything as he held Tubbo close, his silent sobs wracking his body while the older rubbed soothing circles into his back and squeezed every once in a while. It made Tubbo feel extra safe, his cries quieting down a few minutes later and leaving the two in silence. 

“He doesn’t hate me?” Tubbo mumbled when the two parted, Sam reaching up to fix Tubbo’s hair as the aforementioned rubbed his eyes and cheeks dry. Sam chuckled at the question, his hand settling on Tubbo’s shoulder once he deemed his hair fixed enough. 

“Of course he doesn’t hate you, dork. Now get in there before I have to slap some sense into him again.” 

\---

After Tubbo had succeeded in bringing Tommy back to Snowchester, he finally, for the first time in months, felt himself relax. 

Tommy was snuggled up under a pile of blankets on Tubbo’s soft bed, the large bed allowing both of them to have enough room to comfortably sleep without worrying about kicking the other off in their sleep. He had fallen asleep the moment Tubbo had shown him the bedroom, before Tubbo could even ask if he wanted more blankets or not. Tubbo had done so anyway, knowing how cold it could be for the people who weren’t yet used to the change in temperature. 

He would usually get a pretty bad headache around this time of night, leaving him awake and hurting for hours as he tried to remain quiet, but ever since Tommy had been reunited with him, Tubbo no longer felt like the headache was never ending. It still hurt a bit, in two specific spots on the top of his head, though he was too scared that he would cause the pain to worsen if he were to press his fingers against his scalp. He was just happy that he would, hopefully, get a full night's rest now that Tommy was by his side again. 

They had agreed that they would talk more tomorrow, since they were both pretty tired after their shared pot of soup after their reunion. Tubbo was fine with it, needed time to form thoughts and words for what was to come tomorrow. He knew it was going to be a heavy day for them both. They hadn’t gone into details of what they would talk of tomorrow, but he was sure that they both had a mutual understanding that Tommy would finally, _finally_ open up about his months of exile. It was the thing that had been keeping them from fully understanding each other again, of fully knowing one another again. 

For now though, he would lay in his bed, under his warm blankets, next to his best friend, who was sound asleep and snoring as he was wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, warm and safe, and within Tubbo’s line of sight. 

He fell asleep with a smile on his lips, and his hand grabbing a fistful of Tommy’s top blanket, his muscles completely relaxed and his mind at ease as he listened to the soft sounds of Tommy’s breathing.


	3. tommy - shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy opens up as best he can about his exile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry this chapter is so long, I wrote it all in one night and got pretty carried away lmao i'm also sorry if it sucks or some parts don't make sense, I hate rereading my own writing, so I'm sorry

Logstedshire had become Tommy’s home, whether he liked it or not. Which, of course he liked how it looked, since Ghostbur had helped build it for him, but it also just… Didn’t feel right. It wasn’t his real home, it wasn’t the home he had built into the side of a mountain, it wasn’t the land he annoyed his friends on. It wasn’t L’Manberg. 

Tommy stood on top of the one square pillar he had built just moments before, the clouds not too far above him and his arms raised up, head thrown back as he breathed in the fresh air that came with being this high up. 

It was also _freezing_. 

It was almost never cold in L’Manberg, even when it rained. The air was always warm and the sky sunny, no matter the time of year. Tommy used to drag Tubbo around all the time in the heat when they were kids, sweat rolling down their faces and laughter echoing around them. People used to be annoyed and grumble when the two would come barreling down the prime path, all laughter and sunshine. Nobody understood how two kids could handle running around in the summer heat, but they were happy to get the two kids out of their way. 

Here though, in this plains biome that somehow made Tommy feel more suffocated than the mountains that resided in the East, Tommy was freezing. His body shook as he stood, goosebumps racing up and down his arms. It had been raining earlier in the day, right after Dream had blown up all of his things, all of the things that Ghostbur had made him… 

Tommy doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the look on Dream’s face when he had gotten angry, when he had brought out his bunches of TNT and started lighting them. His eyes were practically red, anger evident in every crease of his angry expression. Tommy had tried as hard as he could to grab the photos of Tubbo that he had, pocketing them before scrambling out of the little room that Dream had discovered. Panic and fear was racing through his veins as he took large steps backwards, his chest heaving and tears falling down his cheeks as Dream kept going, not stopping his explosions even after the small room and all of its belongings were gone, destroyed. 

Dream had climbed up out of the small crater, taken one look at Tommy and his shaking form, and smiled. Logstedshire was gone within seconds, quickly followed by Tommy’s tent, and the rest of his belongings. And he could do nothing about it, could do nothing but follow Dream around and beg and scream and push uselessly at his back in an effort to make him stop. 

Dream hadn’t stopped, of course. Tommy didn’t know why he even tried. Dream had always been an asshole, didn’t stop hurting until he was satisfied. He didn’t leave until he had made Tommy fall to the ground in sobs, all of his belongings and his new home burning around him, the nether portal destroyed with no way to fix it, the pictures in his pocket tabbing at his skin and his chest heaving and hurting. Dream had spit words at him that he couldn’t hear above his own cries and the flames that were licking high up into the sky. 

When he had finally left, green hoodie retreating and leaving Tommy in the dark, to find a way to clean all of the mess up and salvage as much as he could, Tommy felt… defeated. For the first time in his sixteen years of living, for the first time in the two wars he had fought, for the first time since he had met any of the people he used to call friends… Tommy felt defeated. It was a feeling he had no knowledge of, had never experienced, had hoped to never experience. He never gave up, never gave in. 

Tommy was a fighter, always had been, even before he met Wilbur and joined L’Manberg. He was a leader, always keeping his soldiers up and at em, never allowing them to give up, never allowing himself to give up. He was the person that was supposed to talk some sense into others, to keep going, until they had won. He was supposed to be the only person who would ever stand up to Dream after Wilbur died. He was the reason that Dream hadn’t fully taken over, hadn’t taken L’Manberg away from the people that Tommy loved. 

But here he was, a ball of broken sobs on the ground, his throat sore and chest aching. His eyes felt like they couldn’t possibly drop anymore tears, his fingers were dumb as he dug them into the dirt. He felt weak and broken, torn apart again and again. He could hear his cries echoing around him, could hear the flames as they continued to eat at the grass and trees around his home that Ghostbur made for him. 

It had taken hours before he had finally stood up from the ground, the flames a lot lower than before, his legs wobbly and weak, his face streaked red and white, matching his dirty and rumpled shirt. He felt like shit, felt tired and gross, cold and shivering despite the heat that surrounded him. But he pushed those aside, ignoring them as he walked in a daze towards the forest and started tearing down the trees with an axe he had left lodged into one of the trunks earlier in the day, before Dream’s usual visit. 

Now he was high up in the sky, fear in the back of his mind as his eyes gazed down at the fires below him. He felt so very tired, his bones aching and his body begging for him to go to sleep, but his brain was buzzing, his heart racing, body shaking and trembling as he stood at the edge of the wooden pillar, toes poking over the edge. 

He should do it. The jump would be so easy, the fall would be a bit terrifying, but it wouldn’t last long, would it? Everything would go dark before he knew it, he would feel okay again once he got to the bottom. He would be okay, safe and sound in the arms of the darkness that would surround him before he could even process his decision. It was tempting, and he bit his lip as he crouched down, dirty hands grabbing at the edge of the pillar as he tried to remember how high he had built up. He was almost in the clouds, big puffy white clouds drifting around the sky just a few inches above him. He couldn’t see any of the animals that usually roamed the plains, and the remains of his things were just barely visible, though the flames looked like little ants walking across the field that surrounded Logstedshire. 

How had he gotten so broken? Two months ago, he would have fought Dream tooth and nail, would have fought until his dying breath, would have been able to stop Dream from destroying his things. He would have Ghostbur beside him, not really doing anything to help but providing Tommy with a sense of security and confidence that always came with being around _Wilbur_. 

That name still hurt to think about, still left him feeling sick in his stomach. But once the thought of Wilbur flashed through his head, Tommy couldn’t let it go. He leaned back until his but touched the wood beneath him, throwing his legs over and letting them dangle over the edge. 

Tommy couldn’t help but wonder if any of this would have been different if Wilbur had been alive, if he had taken his place back as president. Would it have still been the same? Would Wilbur have exiled Tommy, or would he have fought to keep him in his home? Would he have turned around to face Tommy, Fundy and Quackity, and said the same words that Tubbo had? 

_”Dream, I’ve come to the decision… That it will be best for the nation, the most logical thing to do… Is for Tommy to be exiled, from L’Manberg.”_

The worlds still haunted him, left him feeling empty and hurt, betrayed. The look in Tubbo’s eyes as he said those words… He had been so angry, upset, hurt. But his voice was strong, and his decision final. Tommy didn’t think he would ever feel the pain that came with Tubbo looking him in the eye, jaw set and voice steady and angry. They were ruined, broken. The friendship that once kept them attached at the hip, that left them depending on each other and loving each other more than anything, was suddenly gone, ripped from their chests and thrown down a pit. 

But would Wilbur have done the same? Would he have made a plan with them, given them hope that they could fight back against Dream, just to exile him without a second thought? Would he have given Tommy the same hard look, his eyes alight with nothing but anger, and delivered the blowing words? That Tommy was exiled? To be escorted out of his country? Or would he have fought? Would he have fought for Tommy’s right to stay in the nation that he had helped build up? 

Tommy reckons he would have been under better behavior if Wilbur was still alive, was still president. He reckons that he would have been on his best behavior, because that’s the effect that Wilbur had on him. Tommy was in a constant state of trying to prove himself to Wilbur, to show that he could be responsible and mature. But with Tubbo there, he felt like a child. He always did around Tubbo, always felt like they were on top of the world and nothing could touch them. He felt like they could get away with anything, as long as they had each other's backs. 

That’s why he had done it in the first place. He had dragged Ranboo along simply because Tubbo was too busy being president, was too busy to mess around with Tommy. So he had elected the newest citizen as his friend, and he had dragged him all around the server/ They had stolen from George’s house together, they got to know each other, Ranboo had given Tommy a flower, one that was still sitting in that chest full of George’s stolen belongings. 

He wished he had grabbed that flower. Wished he could have at least got to keep a few of his belongings, since he would never be allowed to return to L’Manberg again. Sure, Ranboo wrote him notes every now and then, left him kind words and kept him up to date with the things that were happening in L’Manberg, but they weren’t enough. Tommy would have to burn the page after reading it, so that Dream wouldn’t know that he was still communicating with Ranboo, who said they should keep it a secret. 

He was so lonely out here. Dream visited everyday, but it was never enough, especially after he said he wouldn’t be visiting for a while after today, as a punishment. Ghostbur had disappeared the day before Tommy’s beach party, and nobody ever came to visit him. He was always alone with just his thoughts, which were getting worse and worse as the days dragged on. Just as now, as he stared down, unblinkingly at the ground so far below him, the idea of just… ridding himself from everyone's lives and therefore getting rid of problems. 

It was clear that nobody really cared about him, especially Tubbo, who hadn’t dropped by even once. Though, nobody but Ranboo had visited him from L’manberg, but it hurt even more that Tubbo hadn’t been by, hadn’t left a note or anything. Dream had said that Tubbo had even thrown his compass into a fire just before Christmas… 

The reminder sent a shiver down Tommy’s spine, and for the compass around his neck to feel warmer where it was settled in the middle of his chest. He bit his lip, reaching up to grip at the compass, to warm up his hand a bit as it pointed towards his home. Maybe he would be getting himself out of Tubbo’s way as well. If he just ended it all now, if he got rid of himself and therefore stopped Dream from needing to visit him everyday, if he got out of the way of Tubbo and the rest of the world… 

But why would he need to rid himself from Dream’s life? Why would he give him that satisfaction? Why would he willingly get rid of himself for the sake of Dream? 

The thought snapped him out of his daze, the air around him turning stale and off. His eyes removed themselves from their longing stare down at the ground, gaze settling in his bruised hands, palms up on his lap. Hadn’t Dream said that he had brought Tommy here because he was in the way? He got him exiled over burning George’s shitty house because he needed an excuse to get rid of Tommy, so he could be… less of a problem? 

He frowns at that, hands forming fists, a small hiss escaping through his teeth when pain rippled through his fingers. Surely something was up about that. Dream had been Tommy’s only friend since exile, had been the only person to visit him and keep him somewhat sane. He had given Tommy the occasional gift, like that trident, which he had hurriedly shoved into his ender chest before Dream could have changed his mind. Though, Dream had also taken all of the things had he worked hard each day for and blew them up with TNT… 

His frown deepened, and his eyes turned up towards the night sky, scanning the stars and trying to think through his foggy and sleepy brain. Dream was his friend, right? He kept Tommy company, distracted him from his thoughts when he was around, made Tommy laugh and lifted his moods, helped him feel less lonely and broken during his visits. 

But he also blew up his things regularly, shot down his ideas of traveling around since he was outside of the Dream SMP lands, never letting him keep the things that he spent hours and hours mining and digging for. He was the reason Tommy was exiled here in the first place, had previously taken two of Tommy’s three lives. Dream had been one of the biggest supporters of Wilbur’s betrayal, was probably the reason that Wilbur was dead today… 

Had Dream been his friend at all? Had he cared for Tommy for even a second? Or was he only coming by to keep Tommy here? To make sure that he was staying put, not causing any trouble? Was he genuinely here to be Tommy’s friend, did he actually feel bad for the various things that he had caused to go wrong in Tommy’s life? Or was he treating him like an animal? Keeping his eye on him and making sure that Tommy wasn’t getting in the way of any plans that he had going on? 

Suddenly it clicked. He was being kept away for a reason. Dream was scared of him, knew that he was the only person in this godforsaken land that was never afraid to bite back, to fight and cause problems. Everyone was tame, followed Dream’s orders and rules, because they were scared. They were scared of what Dream could do, they were giving him power, giving him too much power. But Tommy never did that, he never let Dream think he had any sort of control over Tommy, always hitting him back, starting wars, getting people to see Dream through his own eyes. 

That’s why he was here over a stupid fucking house. He was here because Dream had finally found an excuse to get rid of Tommy, to get rid of L’Manberg’s only fighter. Everyone else was so tightly wrapped around that green fucks finger, so tightly coiled and loyal, therefore leaving Tommy to be the only problem that needed to be taken care of. 

And he had succeeded. He had dragged Tommy away, forbade him from ever stepping on his land again, even though L’Manberg was its own nation, was a separate being from Dream’s lands. He had successfully gotten rid of Tommy and his need to fight back, his need to get rid of Dream. He was a threat, someone that Dream knew would get in the way, no matter what. So he got rid of him, got all of his friends to turn away from him as well. 

How had he not realized this before? Why did it take him two month to finally, _finally_ realize that he was being used, that Dream was never really his friend? He had shown his raw emotions to Dream, let him see the weak, broken Tommy that nobody else had seen because he was always so focused on being strong. But he had broken down in front of Dream so many times, had leaned against his shoulder and sobbed and ranted or whined. He had become weak, broken down, a shell of what he once was. 

How had he let himself get so low? How had he allowed Dream to get so close to him, to break him down into the broken boy that he is now? How had he willingly handed Dream his hard earned belongings again and again without question? He watched them explode for days, not a feeling in his stupid brain that warned him of what he was doing. He was doing exactly what Dream wanted. 

He was being weak, breaking slowly over time. He looked down at his clothes, breathing heavily as he took in how dirty and rumpled his shirt and pants were. When had he ever allowed himself to look like this? Sure, he would often wear the same clothes for an unholy amount of days on end, but to get like this? One of his shoes was missing, a toe striking out of his sock and about ready to freeze off his foot. Dirt stains, sweat stains, tear stains. His shirt was ripped and bloodied in various places, his pants not looking too good either. When was the last time he was able to have a new pair of clothes? Had he been wearing these rags for the last two months? 

His head felt like he was swimming, hands clenching in his lap and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

How had he let the guy he has always refused to bow down to break him this much in the span of two months? 

He was Tommy Innit, the one guy that Dream saw as a threat, the kid who fought for his people, who was seen as nothing more than annoying but had been protecting his people with every inch of his being since the very beginning. He had led two wars, he had gained L’Manberg their independence, and then won it back when it was taken from him. He had shut down the offer of presidency because he was so adamant on getting his discs back, the discs that were so important to him because they represented his most precious friendship. 

The friendship that he had ruined by submitting to Dream’s requests and falling under his authority. He had been dropping anything and everything for Dream these days, and for what? What was Dream doing to his friends in L’Manberg? Were they okay? Were they safe? 

He grasped at the glowing compass around his neck, gripping it tightly, feeling the two words that were engraved into it by the ghost of his brother. _Your Tubbo_. Was he safe? Was he still alive? Surely he was, Tubbo wouldn't have died without Tommy knowing. He would have felt it, somewhere. He knows that he would have. He felt it in his chest when Wilbur had died, stabbed through the stomach by his own father. Surely, he would know if Tubbo were gone, would know if he was in too much danger. 

He needed to get out of here. 

Tommy needed to leave this place. He couldn’t keep allowing himself to be under Dream’s rule, to listen to his every word without a second thought. He knew deep down that he would duck his head and listen to Dream if he were to come back in a few days, would hug him just as he had way too many times since he’s arrived here, would assure him that _”No Dream! I would never betray you, you know that! You’re my only friend…”_

He can’t let himself keep hurting like that. He needed to find a way to get back to L’Manberg, he needed to find a way to get back to Tubbo. He had done enough of this with Wilbur, before he had died. He stayed with him for too long, believed that he was genuinely loved and was just standing by his big brother. But that had ended with nothing more than Tommy having shown his weaknesses to someone that was clearly not trustworthy, but he still supported anyway… 

He shook Wilbur from his head, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. This wasn’t about Wilbur anymore, he wasn’t concerned about Wilbur’s well being anymore. Wilbur was dead, he was a traitor, he was someone that Tommy needed to forget already. 

Now he was fighting for Tubbo. He needed to be strong for Tubbo, he needed to break himself from Dream’s gasp so that he can get back to his best friend and apologize for every shitty thing he has ever done, including putting the country that Tubbo had put so much work into in danger. He could only hope that Tubbo would accept him back, would want him to come home one day, would go against Dream’s wishes and drag Tommy back into L’Manberg with that usual warmth that he saved solely for Tommy. 

But fear still stuck itself in the back of his head, the fear that Dream was going to come back while Tommy was fleeing, that he would find out if Tommy left immediately and set out to get rid of him for real this time. Or maybe he would hurt Tubbo, or Quackity, or Fundy. Maybe he would hurt the entirety of L’Manberg if he were to flee right now, would cause Dream to do just as he had threatened if Tubbo didn’t exile him. 

But he didn’t think he could take this anymore. Now that he was aware of it, how could he possibly watch himself continue to hang from Dream’s every word? To continue to see Dream as a friend when he very clearly wasn’t at all? Maybe there was a small bit of Dream that meant their friendship, that genuinely wanted to keep Tommy safe, like an older brother would, but that part had to have been shoved so deep down that maybe even Dream wouldn’t know it was there. 

So Tommy needed to leave. Dream wasn’t what he thought he was, he had been lying to him, training him, keeping him away from the people he cared about. Tommy couldn’t do that anymore, he couldn’t keep bending to Dream’s every wish just because he was made to believe that Dream cared about him, had grown attached to him in his time of exile despite being the entire reason Tommy was out here in the first place. 

He stood up from the pillar, fists clenching at his sides as he peered over the edge on all four sides. Fire to his right, hard, solid ground behind and in front of him. The only way that he could get down was if he very, _very_ carefully climbed down, breaking and tossing down the wood as he went, but that would take hours, and he could already see the very beginnings of the sun rising in the East, turning the horizon a light orange against the rest of the dark sky. 

The other option was to jump down into the ocean to his left. He could feel his breath catch as he peered over, body tensing as he considered how much it would hurt to jump down into those waves from all the way up here. This wasn’t nine feet up, or even twenty. He was probably around fifty feet in the sky, would probably splat down into the water and never come back up. Plus, he wasn’t on very good terms with the ocean of this land, considering how many times he’s woken up in it, deeper and farther out than the last time. 

But it was his only option if he wanted to get down from there without dying on impact. He would break every bone in his body if he were to jump down from any other side. 

So he took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut tightly, tried his best not to think about what he was doing, and he jumped. 

\---

Living and working with Technoblade was… An experience. One that Tommy didn’t particularly like, but he wasn’t about to go complaining when Techno was the only person that Tommy could think of that would let him stay. He was surprised that Techno had even let him stay in the first place, even if it was under the agreement that Tommy would help him to get his things back, as well as get any other information about L’Manberg. 

Tommy was even more surprised that he had agreed to help. Sure, it meant that he wouldn’t be stuck out in the cold, where he would probably freeze to death within a few hours, and that he was getting warm meals and his own room where he could hide his belongings without needing to worry if Techno was going to take them. 

But Technoblade was supposed to be his enemy. He had betrayed them the day Wilbur died, had spawned withers that distracted Tommy from running to his brother's aid, had destroyed so much of the country that he was so proud of. He had taken one of Tubbo’ lives, killed him right in front of Tommy, right in front of every citizen of L’Manberg. 

He could still see the colors sometimes, the rainbow of colors that had spread from the firework and the dark fear that had filled Tubbo’s face. He could still remember the panic and the way his throat felt raw as he screamed Tubbo’s name, could still hear his screams for help, the way he called Tommy’s name as if Tommy were the only person who could save him… 

He could still remember running down those tunnels, racing back towards Pogtopia where he knew Tubbo had come back, was probably panicking just as much as Tommy was. They had met somewhere in the middle, both crying and grasping onto the other in relief. He could still remember Tubbo’s broken words. 

_”Wilbur promised that he wouldn’t hurt me!”_

He remembered the way Wilbur and Technoblade had laughed at him as he screamed in their faces, as Tubbo stood back, trying his best to keep Tommy from hitting one of them. Tommy doesn’t think he had been as angry about anything as he had been then. Tubbo being so forgiving of it had only egged him on more, his anger flaring up and spreading through his limbs. 

Now though, he figured he could just put it all behind him if they were going to be working together. Techno would be able to get Tommy back into L’Manberg, and he had always seen Techno as stronger than Dream, so maybe, just maybe, he would be able to protect Tommy from Dream if he were to ever show up, to ruin Tommy’s life again. 

Living with Techno was also quiet. The elder was always away doing something, or moving around the house, cleaning and organizing things he had cleaned and organized half a million times before. It gave Tommy a lot of time to sit in his room and rethink things, to force himself to remember the things that had happened to him just a week ago while under Dream’s control. 

He had come to the realization that he no longer felt safe near plains biomes. He and Techno had been looking for dogs for some project that Techno had going on, when Tommy had remembered that there were always quite a few dogs in the forest near his old home. He hadn’t thought anything about it when the two packed up some bags and headed back in the direction that Tommy had dragged himself from when in search for some kind of shelter. 

They had made quiet conversation on the way, Techno poking at Tommy about how he got exiled and how he had survived since then. Tommy answered as little as possible, still sensitive about the subject, especially since Techno seemed to hate Tubbo an unhealthy amount already. Tommy had had to make Techno promise not to hurt Tubbo when they would eventually get around to going and getting his supplies. 

When in the middle of a conversation about how much Tommy wanted to create some tower near Techno’s house, just for old times sake, Tommy had suddenly stopped in his tracks. They were at the edge of the plains, bits of grass swaying in the breeze that blew throughout the mostly flat lands. Tommy had felt a sense of panic race through his veins, his throat seizing up and his heart racing. He had taken a few steps back, fingers itching up towards the compass around his neck, looking for some sort of comfort as he remembered the things he had been put through. 

Throwing his belongings away, laughing and joking around with Dream as they both walked around collecting new supplies, laying flat on his back on the cold ground and staring up at the sky, waiting patiently for his friend to come for his daily visits so that Tommy wouldn’t be as lonely. 

He hated it, hated the panic and itch in the back of his brain to get the hell out of there, to keep on the lookout for Dream, who was inevitably going to drag Tommy right back to Logstedshire and put him through even more pain and hurt than he already had. 

Techno had continued walking into the plains, still talking to himself until he had realized that Tommy wasn’t next to him anymore. He had turned around in confusion, hand moving to the hilt of his sword when he saw the panic on Tommy’s face. Tommy remembered that he had asked if he was alright, and Tommy not wanting to ruin the adventure they were going on stayed quiet, swallowing thickly and nodding his head before biting his lip harshly and squeezing the glowing purple compass, taking a step into the plains and feeling the fire beneath his skin light up a million degrees. 

They had continued on, Tommy trying his best to push his panic down, to hide how anxious and shaky he was as they walked across the biome, continuing their conversation on cobblestone towers and the various other buildings that Techno didn’t like in L’Manberg. 

They unfortunately hadn’t found any dogs that day, and Tommy was beating himself up about the panic he was feeling while on their way back, when he started to recognize the trees around him a little too much. There were a few that had branches missing, a few with rather clear axe marks in them, someone having given up on getting through the thick trunks. He pushed it to the back of his head, wanted to distract himself by talking to Techno and joking around. But then, they broke through the clump of trees, and there it was. 

The ruins of Logstedshire, no longer on fire. The place had only been abandoned for about a week, but it already felt so foreign to Tommy, and a million times more dangerous. His anxiety spiked the moment his eyes landed on the ruined remains of his tent, stopping in his tracks once again, an immediate sob falling from his lips as his breath got caught in his throat. 

This time, Techno stopped beside him, his smile from one of Tommy’s jokes disappearing and his sword coming out from where it sat at his hip. He was immediately on high alert, placing himself in front of Tommy as his eyes roamed over the remains. Tommy pressed his hands to his chest, feeling the panic rising in his throat and curling around his stomach and lungs. Logically, Tommy knew that nothing in these ruins could hurt him, knew that he was safe and sound as long as Technoblade was by his side, but he still felt so off, so shaky and scared. 

The green grass and burn marks brought back too many memories, too much pain. Watching the stars at night when he couldn’t sleep, waking up in the ocean and panicking as he tried to swim back to shore every morning. Waking up from nightmares in the middle of the night and being unable to fall back to sleep because he was alone and scared. Giving up on making armor or looking for resources because he knew they were going to get blown up anyway. Sitting up on that damn tower that he never destroyed and contemplating ending everything right then and there. 

Techno had been the one to see him first, taking a step back and pushing Tommy with him. He didn’t say a word, just turned to Tommy slowly and raised his finger to his lips, signaling him to stay silent. Tommy had nodded, shutting his lips and peeking curiously around the pink haired boy. 

A flash of green in the crater that was once Logstedshire, blonde hair peeking over the edge and moving around, throwing things angrily and kicking about like a child. Tommy felt his panic raise a million times higher, clogging his throat and squeezing his lungs even tighter, making it practically impossible to get a single breath in, his hands turning shaky as he grasped at his compass, the cold metal doing nothing to cool his suddenly too warm skin. 

The two stood there in silence for a few moments, just watching, Tommy struggling to breath and keep his panic hidden. Then Techno was in action, grabbing Tommy’s wrist and pulling him back into the cluster of trees, careful to stay silent and not step on any of the different colored leaves that would be sure to crunch and alert Dream of their presence. 

Tommy had felt tears welling up in his eyes as a hand fell over his mouth, trembling and allowing himself to be pulled along without really thinking. Once they were a safe space away, just a little bit past the village that was nearby, Techno stopped and turned to Tommy, his eyes hard and jaw set as he grabbed both his shoulders. 

“We need to cross the field to get back home, so I need you to cross here, and _fast_ , or else Dream is gonna see you, alright?” Tommy nodded at the words, pulling himself from Techno’s grasp. He couldn’t take physical contact right now, felt too seen with hands pressing into his shaking form. Techno nodded back, before gently pushing Tommy in the direction of home. It took Tommy a second to realize that Techno had begun walking back in the direction they had come from. 

“W-where are you going?” He asked, keeping his voice low, trying his best to keep the shakiness out of it but failing horribly. Techno looked over his shoulder, shooing Tommy away in answer, still holding his glowing sword out, ready to attack if necessary. 

“Distracting him. Now hurry the hell up and get home before he realizes you’re here. Hide in the empty box as soon as you get there, like I showed you, okay?” Tommy didn’t even get to answer him before Techno was speed walking back in the direction of Dream, sword raised in both hands and footsteps oddly light. Tommy didn’t waste any time in turning back towards the field, wiping the tears welling up in his eyes and beginning his trek back home, feeling a lot less scared and upset once he was back in the snow. 

He couldn’t get completely rid of the shakiness though, or the anxiety that kept making him look over his shoulder and move through the trees as if he were lost, just in case Dream was following him and wanted to know where he was going. It was cold now, far different from the warmth that came with plains biomes and the hot sun. He pulled the blue cape around his frame tighter, letting the fluffy tops of it rest around his jaw and ears in an effort to stay warm as he wondered how far behind Techno was. 

Once he had gotten back to the house, he locked both the doors behind him, leaned back against the wood and took his first deep breath since he had set eyes on Dream. His chest still felt too tight, still felt like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen through, and his hands were still shaky and cold, but he brought himself down enough to quietly look out the window, peeking through the shudders and in the direction in which Techno would be coming from. 

But he was quickly crashing again when, twenty minutes later, Techno broke through the trees, sword back in its place at his hip, and a bright green hoodie following after him. 

They were clearly in the middle of a conversation, and Tommy couldn’t see the Techno’s eyes through the pig skull he wore over his eyes, but he could tell from his posture that this wasn’t good. Tommy pushed himself away from the window, eyes wide and chest heaving as he went for the box that Techno had taken two sides off of, the open space facing towards the wall so that Tommy could smash his height in and be hidden. 

He chugged down a rather disgusting tasting invis pot in a panic before pulling out the box and sitting down, pulling it over himself and taking shaky breaths and biting his lip in an effort to try and stay quiet, ears straining to hear any footsteps nearby. One hand grabbed at his compass, the other going over his mouth and his eyes falling shut against the darkness. 

Then he heard it, heard the underlying annoyance that was hiding beneath the cheery small talk coming from _his_ mouth. The voice that was drilled in Tommy’s mind, that spoke to him in his nightmares, that scared him half to death but for some fucked up reason still made him sit up straight in some sick sort of excitement. He hadn’t gotten too used to associating Dream’s voice with no longer being lonely, with keeping him company and giving him reasons to laugh and dragging him away from the edge of lava pools. 

But above all of that twisted joy that coiled in his belly and made him want to push his way out of that box and wrap his arms around Dream and beg him to never leave again, Tommy felt fear wrap its fingers around his throat and squeeze. He stopped breathing when he heard the door open, heard the footsteps and forced laughter as Techno said something that Tommy couldn’t hear over the sound of blood rushing through his ears. His hand pressed harder to his mouth, and he pushed further back into the wall, wishing he could dissolve against it and never have to deal with whatever reason Dream was here. 

“I know this might be a stupid question, Techno. But…” They were standing practically in front of the box, voices loud and clear. Tommy could only hope that Techno was the closest. “Have you seen Tommy?” It was silent for a few seconds, nobody speaking, nobody moving. Tommy froze up, fingers twitching against his compass. 

“No, why would I have? Last I checked, I wasn’t exactly his favorite person,” Techno replied, his familiar footsteps starting to move around, probably putting supplies away and trying to cover up any signs that more than one person was living in the cabin. Dream hummed in reply, basically confirming that he was the one closest to Tommy’s box, sending another spike of fear and panic through Tommy’s veins. He pulled his legs closer to himself, squeezing his compass tightly and praying that Dream would turn around and leave soon. 

“You’re sure?” He questioned, his voice practically drooling with uncertainty. It had only been a week since Tommy was gone, a few hours at most since Dream had finally realized that Tommy was gone. Surely he wouldn’t have actually suspected that Tommy would come crawling here? Everyone knew how much he hated Technoblade, how many times he swore that he would avenge Tubbo by defeating Techno in a fight. Even Dream had to be aware of how crazy it would sound to think that he would work with Technoblade. 

Because it _was_ crazy. Tommy couldn’t believe it, didn’t like it. He hated Techno with every bone in his body, wanted nothing more than to destroy him and everything he cared about, just as he had done to Tommy when he killed Tubbo, when he aided Wilbur in blowing up L’Manberg, probably in his eventual death… 

“Dream come on, why would I have the kid here? He hates my guts, and I don’t feel too good about him either. You know how I run things, I don’t work with or take in little brats like Tommy.” The words stung, even if Tommy pretended like they weren’t true. Tommy didn’t exactly want to be in this situation either, but he needed somewhere else to stay, where nobody would find him. It was already a risk that Ranboo knew he was here, even if he promised that he wouldn’t tell anybody. Tommy trusted him, sure, but he didn’t trust the people Ranboo was living with. The people of L’Manberg weren’t his friends anymore, that was one thing that Dream was actually right about. 

“You’re sure that he isn’t here without you knowing?” 

“I think I would know if that little runt was roaming about my house.” 

\---

“Tommy?” 

He would recognize that voice anywhere. If he were to go decades without hearing it, without remembering the face of who it belonged, without thinking about the person it belonged to, he would always and forever know who that voice belonged to. He had grown up with it yelling in his ear every morning, sat down leaning against a tree and basking in the summer sun as that voice went on and on about his day while they were separated. He had sat on their bench every night for over a year and laughed with that voice, cried with that voice, mourned with that voice. 

He couldn’t believe that the heartbreak set in it was because of him. 

“Tommy? You’re… Alive?” Tommy whorled around, sword still pointed at Connor’s throat, the sharp and glowing blade sitting gently against his clear skin and scaring the ever loving shit out of both of them. 

Tubbo stood in front of him, behind the bee house that he had built while Tommy was away. Tubbo gasped when he was able to see Tommy’s face, something like relief flooding over his features and tears welling up in his eyes as he stood next to Ranboo, who was avoiding all eye contact, his head ducked down and bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

Tommy stared at his best friend, at his clean suit and his squared shoulders, at the tears that weren’t falling from his eyes, at his shaky hands as he took a few steps forward, reaching out for Tommy in a way that made Tommy want nothing more than to drop the sword that Technoblade had made him and run into the arms of his best friend. 

But he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t a citizen of L’Manberg anymore. 

“Stay back”! He spit out, grabbing the back of Connor’s collar and pulling him towards his chest, raising the sword higher and pressing it more firmly against Connor’s throat, the older gasping and raising his head up, trying to evade the sharp blade that Tommy held in his shaky grip. 

“We’re only here for a few things Tubbo, and I hate to have to take a hostage for it, but it appears that’s the only way I’m going to be getting these things back,” Techno stepped in, sensing the fear and heartache that was rolling off of Tommy in waves. Tubbo tore his eyes away from Tommy, latching them onto Techno with a confused frown. Tommy tried so hard to look away from Tubbo, to not cry at the sight of his longest friend standing in front of him like this, as he held another friend as a hostage, to help their _enemy_. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“My belongings, Tubbo. The ones you stole from me when you brought me here to execute me,” his words got louder at the end there, as if he still couldn’t believe that a kid had led that butcher army out for him. Tommy watched as Tubbo squared his jaw and stood up a little straighter, his eyes darkening at Techno’s words, his earlier sadness and disbelief being replaced with the authority that he had gained when he was deemed president. 

“I’m sorry Techno, but I’m afraid that we can’t give you that. You’re a dangerous man, we don’t need L’Manberg being even more threatened than it already is,” his gaze moved back to Tommy, and he could see the regret in his friends eyes as he continued to speak. “Tommy, I’m gonna need you to let Connor go and then escort yourselves out of here, before I have to call someone just a little more powerful than I.” 

Tommy felt his body tense at the words, and saw the panic in Tubbo’s eyes as he quickly raised his hand and shook his head upon seeing the change in Tommy’s posture. 

“Tubbo, it’s either give me my things or we kill Connor, which one is it gonna be?” Tubbo clenched his jaw, and Tommy finally turned his gaze to Techno, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. They had agreed that they wouldn’t hurt anybody if anything happened. Techno had swore that they were just going to use Connor for leverage, as a way to get Techno back his things so that he could help Tommy to get his discs back. 

“Techno that’s not what-” Techno raised his hand before Tommy to finish, smirking at Tubbo as the boy glared back, pinching at Ranboo’s sleeve and pulling him down to whisper something in his ear as Tommy took the pressure off of Connor’s neck, biting the inside of his cheek to try and keep a calm demeanor. 

Ranboo nodded, giving Techno a quick look before scurrying off, his steps long and determined. Tubbo turned back to the three people in front of him, Techno raising a brow at the bored look on Tubbo’s features. 

“Ranboo will receive your things, now I suggest you let Connor go before I tell him I’ve changed my mind.” Tommy released Connor immediately, dropping the sword down to the ground like it had burned him, taking a few steps back and refusing to meet Tubbo’s eyes. Techno laughed lowly, crossing his arms and moving to stand at Tommy’s side, ready to wait for Ranboo to return with the last of Techno’s belongings. 

It was silent for a few seconds, Tommy clasping his hands together behind his back to hide how shaky he was from Tubbo, who still stood across from him. He could feel Tubbo’s gaze on him, but he tried to ignore it, instead focusing on his shoes as he kicked them through the dirt. 

“Tommy?” He felt like he was going to collapse. A flurry of emotions swam through his system at the sound of his name falling from his best friends lips with so much hurt and pain behind them. He had missed hearing Tubbo’s voice, missed the usual comfort it would always bring him when he was feeling low or panicky. 

Tommy didn’t respond, didn’t really want to talk to Tubbo all that much out of fear that he would drop everything right then and there, everything he had been fighting for, all of his efforts to get Techno to help him get those goddamn discs back, and would go sobbing into Tubbo’s arms. 

“How are you alive?” That wasn’t a question he thought he would be asked. Confusion replaced the anxiety that was gripping tightly at his stomach, and he looked up to Tubbo with a frown, taking in the relief that made the others shoulders sag, as well as the dark bags underneath his best friend's eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Had Tubbo really believed that Tommy would have died out there on his own? Had he really believed that Tommy couldn’t take care of himself? Couldn’t go a day without his friend by his side? The thoughts made his skin feel hot, for his frown to turn angry, his face to turn red, anger turning into a tornado in his stomach as Tubbo opened his mouth to speak. 

“You know you didn’t visit me even once while I was out there? You were the one person I expected to visit me, the one person I was hoping would come and see me and make sure that I was okay, but you were just here, doing what exactly? Executing Technoblade? Building a bee farm? Doing nothing to get me back home?” Tubbo closed his mouth at the words, taken aback by the accusations that were being thrown in his face. 

“Tubbo you were supposed to be my best friend? So where the fuck were you?” 

“Where was I? Where was _I_? Do you really want to have this conversation right now, Tommy?” Tubbo retaliated, taking a step forward, his hand coming up to point at his chest, where Tommy could have sworn, for a split second, he had seen a familiar glowing purple object underneath his jacket. 

“ _I_ have been here, Tommy! Cleaning up _your_ mess, assuring my people that they were safe after I had to send my best friend away. I was here making sure that nothing bad was going to happen to our country! I’ve been working my ass off, trying to keep people under control, trying to stay under good relations with Dream! What have you been doing exactly? Teaming up with Technoblade? The person who was supposed to be our enemy?” 

Tommy could see how red Tubbo’ face was getting, even in the dark of the night, He could practically see the fumes leaving out through his ears, could see his shaking hands as he pointed to and fro throughout his words, could see how tense he was. 

That only encouraged Tommy’s anger even more. 

“Yeah! Yeah I am teaming with Technoblade, because you know what? At least he was willing to take me in after my supposed best friend through me out of _my_ country!” Technoblade chuckled next to him, but Tommy ignored him, taking a step forward, anger and heartache racing through his veins. “You didn’t come to visit me even once while I was out there, Tubbo, so don’t pull the victim card on me. I was out there for two fucking months waiting for you.” 

And it was true. Sure, he looked forward to each of Dream’s visits, looked forward to that familiar green hoodie approaching him with a comforting smile and open arms. But he always, every day, wished that instead of looking up and seeing Dream approaching him, he would see Tubbo, in his stupid presidents suit and that red bandana tied around his wrist. 

But it never happened. Instead he was greeted with the same “put your things in the hole Tommy,” and “I’m the only friend you need, Tommy. Those other people? They don’t care about you, but I do.” 

“You didn’t even come to my fucking party!” 

“You never invited me you asshole! I would have been there, because I’ve fucking missed you!” Tommy didn’t believe him. 

“Dream said you got the invite, he said that he saw Ghostbur give it to you, so don’t bullshit me you dick!” He was shaking even more at this point, though he couldn’t really pinpoint why, there were so many different emotions pushing themselves into him, fighting each other and arguing. 

“I came to visit you at least twice! I was told to leave, to stop coming by! I was threatened, L’Manberg was threatened.” 

“Dream wouldn’t lie to me Tubbo!” He hated how much he believed those words, and he hated the way the anger dissipated from Tubbo’s features, flowing off of his face like a waterfall and being replaced with such raw hurt and sadness that Tommy almost wanted to take his words back. 

Ranboo lingered a few feet behind Tubbo, a crossbow with a firework still loaded in it and a pickaxe in his arms, but Tommy wasn't focused on him, because even though they were arguing right now, even though they were both filled with so much anger towards each other, Tommy still wanted to be around Tubbo for as long as he could before he was forced to turn around and head back to Technoblade’s house. 

They stared at each other for a few more moments, before Ranboo finally took a deep breath and approached, walking directly to Techno and handing over his supplies, the two of them muttering to each other under their breaths as Tommy willed himself not to cry when Tubbo shook his head and turned away, punching the side of his bee dome before storming off angrily. 

\---

Tommy stopped in his tracks, eyes widening as he was suddenly face to face with the person he thought he had gotten rid of two weeks ago, body turning cold and tense as he took in the sight of the familiar glowing armor and green hoodie underneath. 

Tommy had been silent for most of the walk back to the nether portal, letting Technoblade go on and on about the two items they have managed to retrieve from Tubbo and Ranboo. He couldn’t get it out of his head, his best friend standing there, angry at him despite that having been the first time they had seen each other in almost three months. It hurt, but at the same time he was happy it happened, because it meant that he got to interact with his friend again. 

But the moment they had gotten over the steps and stood in front of the nether portal, Tommy’s heart had dropped into his feet, and he stopped in his tracks, grabbing at Techno’s arm to stop him as well. 

Dream sat on top of the portal, mask pulled over his face and legs dangling over the edge. A sinister laugh fell from his lips once he caught sight of Tommy, clearly amused by the instant panic that raced through Tommy at the sight the person he still couldn’t decide if he cared about or not. 

“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” he mocked, jumping down from the top of the portal, sword in hand and smirk evident through his voice alone. Tommy bit the inside of his lip hard, drawing blood and cringing internally at the copper taste in his mouth. Techno took out his rocket launcher, as he called it, pulling the already inserted firework back and pointing it in Dream’s direction. “If I remember correctly, Tommy, you aren’t supposed to be here.” 

“What do you want, Dream?” He managed to get out, still angry from his earlier argument with Tubbo, but also still shaky at being near his _friend_ again. 

“Oh Tommy, you aren’t gonna believe this one actually,” he pointed his sword down, leaning against it like a cane. “I got your disc back from Skeppy.” Because of course he did. 

Tommy sneered up at him, panic moving in to fight with the anger. 

“What?” 

“Skeppy handed it over, it’s hiding in my chest right about now, actually.” He said it with so much confidence, his posture portraying that he knew neither of them were going to hurt him, and he knew it. Because they weren’t, Technoblade wasn’t going to hurt someone that wasn’t trying to kill him, and Tommy wasn’t strong enough, emotionally or physically. 

“You’re a real prick, you know that?” Tommy pushed, to which Technoblade laughed and agreed, flexing his fingers against the wood of his crossbow. “You manipulated me out there, you _hurt_ me.” 

“Tommy, I was the only person who visited you, wasn’t I? I was your friend, and you betrayed me, you left me.” Tommy was taken aback by the words, because they were technically true. Dream _had_ been his friend during those two months of exile, and he had been the only person to visit him, even making it a constant thing throughout Tommy’s exile. He had only missed about two or three days of visits. 

“You,” Tommy got out, looking at Technoblade, who nodded as if to cheer him on, before turning back to Dream and continuing. “You manipulated me. You _betrayed_ me.” Did he believe those words? 

Dream chuckled in response, rolling his neck as he kicked his sword out, letting it land on his armored shoulder with a small _thunk_. 

“Come on, Tommy. If anything, you betrayed me. You came here, to L’Manberg, where you’re not even supposed to be. You left your exile and now you’re right back to causing problems.” His eye flicked towards Technoblade for a second, and Tommy rolled his eyes, seeing where this was going. Dream was trying to get into his head again, just as he had all those other nights and days before, when they were best buds. 

“Dream this is all only happening because you won’t give me back my fucking discs! Those are the only things I want, so why are you being so difficult about it?” That definitely sparked something. “The only reason you visited me at all is because I’m the only person who doesn’t listen to you, who isn’t scared of you! I think… I think you’re scared of me.” _That_ sparked something. Tommy could feel the anger and restraint from where he stood. 

Techno chuckled again, dropping down his crossbow turning his face towards Tommy, a smirk playing on his lips as Dream went silent for a few seconds. 

“How about this then, Tommy. You,” he took a few steps forward, pointing his sword toward Tommy like a finger, footsteps light and confident, “are going to come with me, or else I burn our precious disc.” Any confidence that had previously made itself present in those swirling emotions of Tommy’s immediately disappeared and he took a step back, blood draining from his face at the words, filled with so much venom and confidence that Tommy almost felt sick. 

Techno spoke before either one of them could continue. 

“Well that’s gonna be a bit of a problem, Dream,” he said, smirking again and moving to stand in front of Tommy, his lean body blocking Tommy from view, crossbow raising back up and pointing directly at Dream’s chest. “Because this guy is with me.” 

Suddenly, Techno felt like Tommy’s brother again. 

“Hmm,” Dream hummed, sword falling back down to his side, posture still lazy and cat like as he watched Technoblade’s movements. “Are you sure about that, Techno?” 

“I am sure, actually.” Tommy latched himself onto the back of Techno’s cloak, grasping the red material between his fingers and peeking over his shoulder. “We have an agreement, I kinda need him to continue on with my business, which means I can’t have you going and taking him away from me.” 

Tommy smiled to himself at the words. Sure, he was only being protected because of their deal, but it reminded Tommy of when he was a kid, when Wilbur had dragged him home with him one spring, bragging to Phil about this little kid he had adopted as his little brother, bringing him into the family. Techno had been rather annoyed to have another kid in the house, saying he could barely stand having Phil’s other kid around, but he had grown to like Tommy when he realized how much the blonde liked to fight and be rowdy. 

They would often fight in the backyard, rolling around through the dirt and grass and laughing, taking turns on letting each other win. 

He wished he could go back to those days. 

“Unless… you wanted to call in that favor?” The smile dropped from Tommy’s face and he frowned, grip loosening on Techno’s cape as he took a small step back. Favor? What favor? 

Dream laughed at that, tilting his head to get another look at Tommy before slowly moving out of their way, back to using his sword as a cane as he grinned at both of them. 

“You’re a smart one, Techno. But I think I’ll be keeping that favor for a later date. Some far more important stuff happening in the future that I might need that favor for.” 

\---

“TUBBO THE DISCS WERE WORTH MORE THAN YOU EVER WERE!” 

The crowd went silent around them, Tubbo stopped in his tracks, his sword falling from his hand and shield lowering. 

Why did he say that? It wasn’t true at all, not a single bit of it was true. Nothing, _nothing_ could be worth more than Tubbo. That was his best friend, his brother. They had been through hell and back together, loved each other more than anything, leaned on each other for support when needed. Tubbo was Tommy’s most important person, was someone that he feared losing, someone that he feared hurting. 

_So why the hell did he say that?_

“What?” Tubbo’s voice broke on the word, and Tommy shook his head, taking a step back as he processed the words that had fallen from his mouth, let his eyes roam across his friends that surrounded them, at his friends that hadn’t stopped them. Why did nobody stop them? Why did they just sit back and watch? 

“You… You meant that?” Of course he didn’t mean that. Why the hell would he mean something like that? This was his best friend he was talking about, the boy who was ruling over the nation that Tommy missed with every ounce of his being. How could he ever mean that _anything_ was worth more to him than Tubbo? He constantly fought tooth and nail for him, argued with people because Tubbo wouldn’t, put people into their place because Tubbo wouldn’t… 

“I…” He trailed off, clenching his fists at his sides, gripping his axe tightly and dropping his shield to the side. “Give… Give him the disc, Tubbo.” The words surprised him, and seemed to surprise Tubbo even more, his eyes widening at the words and his hand instinctively coming up to grab Tommy’s arm, which he leaned into, skin warming up immediately at the touch of his best friend, of his brother. 

“Tommy? Are you sure?” He nodded in reply, moving to stand at Tubbo’s side, hands shaking as he pulled his axe into both hands, staring down at the ground and avoiding eye contact with everything, especially Tubbo, who kept trying to lean over and get Tommy to look into his eyes, to verbally confirm that he was serious about giving Dream his disc. 

“Tommy?” Techno called, jumping down onto the platform, his eyes unseeable but his expression clear nonetheless. He was confused, laughing awkwardly as he turned up to survey the people around them. There were at least thirty of them, every citizen of L’Manberg, the Dream SMP, the Badlands. They were all surrounding them, they had watched and listened as Tommy said those words that didn’t hold an ounce of truth. 

“I don’t know why… It just wasn’t true… Tubbo,” he reached out and grabbed Tubbo’s soaked sleeve, still not looking him in the eye but raising his head up far enough for Tubbo to see the sincerity in his features as he spoke his next words. “I’m… I’m so sorry.” His compass felt like it was burning a hole into his chest as Tubbo grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. 

The exchange had been made. Tubbo inched over and handed Dream his disc, which was immediately put into his enderchest, his face alit with joy and his dark chuckle echoing around them. 

“Tommy, what are you going?” Technoblade asked, disbelief etching itself into his deep voice, his head turning to follow Tubbo as he made his way back to Tommy’s side. “What is this?” 

“I’m sorry, Techno. I really am but this…” He gestured around them, at the specks of blood that were spread around the platform, at cut on his arm, at Tubbo. “This isn’t me, man. I’m looking around here and I’m just… I’m not the person I want to be. I just… I just told my best friend that a couple of discs were more important to me than he ever was and that… That is not something I would say. It’s not something that’s true.” 

Techno inched closer to him, raising his hands up in disbelief, an angry frown set on his lips.

“And? What are you trying to say here, Tommy?” 

“I just…” He couldn’t get the words out, he couldn’t find the _right_ words. How was he supposed to tell Techno that after three weeks of working together, of bonding again, of forgiving each other… That he wasn’t happy? That he was angry with himself, that he was angry at Techno, at Dream, at the people surrounding them? 

“Tommy come on, I still got some pearls, I can get us out of here. This isn’t the end of the road, alight?” He held his hand out, and Tommy felt tears prickling at the backs of his eyes as he stepped back from the hand offered to him. “Tommy I’ll cover your escape, we’ll go home, regroup, try again late-” 

“Techno, if this is what I’ve become,” he gestured around again, finally looking up and meeting Techno’s eyes through his boar mask. “Then I don’t want to be me, man.” 

“Tommy?” 

“I’m sorry, Techno but… I’m with Tubbo.” There was silence, silence that seemed to stretch on forever as the two stared at each other, Tommy’s shoulders sagging as he put himself in between Tubbo and Ranboo. 

“Tommy I don’t think you quite understand what I meant when we talked yesterday,” Techno laughed, inching closer, pulling his sword out of his sheath at his hip. “When I said you could sit out while I destroyed L’Manberg, I meant you can stay at home, safe and sound, not switch sides on me!” His voice raised with every word, anger leaking through and splattering itself across the people that stood nearby. Tommy felt guilt eating away at his insides, but he forced it down, forced the tears from falling from his eyes. 

“Techno come on, I’m just-” 

“You’re betraying me, Tommy! Just like you keep betraying everyone around you! We’re supposed to be a team, working together!” Techno yelled, and Tommy swore he could see the angry fire in his eyes even through his mask. 

“Techno I’ve become worse than everyone I hated!” He screamed back, taking a step closer, feeling his face turning red as he yelled the words, as he pressed his hand to his chest, as he remembered Wilbur and his stupid unfinished symphony, as he remembered Schlatt and his stupid need for power. 

“I’m worse than everyone I didn’t want to be…” He turned his head towards Dream, not looking directly at him in fear that his fight to keep his tears from falling would instantly fail and he would become a crying baby in front of all these people he was trying to stay strong for. 

“Think real hard before you make this decision then Tommy, because you can’t undo this,” Techno finished, his grip tightening on his sword and his shoulders rolling back to throw the cape off his back, the material landing at his feet. 

Tommy took a deep breath, and stepped back to Tubbo’s side. 

“Technoblade I know what I’ve done to these people, what I’ve done to you, and I… I hate it… I’m sorry.” That’s all he managed to get out, all he could trust himself to say without completely breaking down. 

\---

“And you know the rest, Tubbo. Dream and Techno team up, they blow up L’Manberg the very next day, we lose our country. A week later, we fight Dream, and he’s gone.” Tommy finished, dried tears caked to his cheeks where he sat next to Tubbo, his head laying on Tubbo’s shoulder, legs brought up to his chest and blanket wrapped around him like a burrito. 

It went silent around them, Tommy closing his eyes as he let Tubbo digest it all, let it all simmer before he really reacted. A snowstorm had graced them when they woke up that morning, snow throwing itself against the side of Tubbo’s house and waking them both up with a scare. They had eaten a quick breakfast, talked a little more about Tommy’s hotel and joked around about how lazy Jack Manifold could be. 

Then they had both decided they procrastinated enough and moved to the room, settling side by side on the bed, leaning against the wall, and Tommy began to talk, going over as much as he could remember about his exile, about living with Technoblade, about talking to Dream and getting close to him. 

Tubbo had listened silently beside him, letting Tommy cry when he needed to, wrapping his arms around Tommy when he was given permission. 

Now here they were, supporting one another in shock on the bed, silence surrounding them and leaving Tommy to wipe at the tears that had been prickling at the backs of his eyes. He was scared about how Tubbo would react, scared that he would blame himself because he was the one that exiled Tommy in the first place. The last thing Tommy wanted was for Tubbo to believe that he was the cause of all of Tommy’s traumas, of the manipulation that he was forced to go through. Because Tommy didn’t blame Tubbo one bit, didn’t associate the things he went through over those three months of being away. He lamed the people that surrounded him. He blamed Dream, because it was his fault in the first place that Tommy was exiled at all. 

He blamed Technoblade, who he still felt so bad for betraying, who admitted that he would have fought all of those people for him that day, and he believed him. Techno was protective of the people he cared about, and Tommy was just happy that at some point, he was important to Techno again, just like when he was a kid. 

“I’m so sorry,” Tubbo finally said after a few minutes, his voice wobbly and broken, choked with tears. Tommy moved his head from Tubbo’s shoulder to get a look at his face, and as he expected, Tubbo was crying, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he gripped his blanket tightly between his hands. Tommy panicked at the sight, scooting off the wall and quickly wrapping Tubbo in his arms, letting Tubbo fall against him and sob into his chest. 

It reminded Tommy of when he had been in this same position with Sam just last night, holding onto Sam for strength and support, just as Tubbo was now, holding tightly onto Tommy’s waist and shoving his face into his chest. He could feel the tears soaking through his t-shirt, but Tommy didn’t care, he just needed Tubbo to be okay. 

“Hey man, it’s not your fault,” he assured, rubbing soothing circles into Tubbo’s back and rocking them gently back and forth, laying his cheek on Tubbo’s hair as he cried, pressed against his best friend, both of them absorbing the others warmth. Even through the tears, they were both just happy to finally have one another back, to have nothing between them that was a secret anymore. They had told each other everything, they had bared their souls to one another and spoken of their deepest, darkest secrets. 

Tommy couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to finally open up to his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the point of Tommy not getting into the real trauma, and really only remembering the bits and pieces of it, is because he's pushing it down, forcing himself to forget it, so he only remembers the things that trigger his panic attacks and made him feel scared, but most of the time, he can't remember the why or how he gained those fears. (I'm using this as an excuse for why he refuses to open up to anyone in the actual lore.) 
> 
> anyway next chapter is gonna be a train wreck so prepare yourself for that.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it sucked, I'm not really good with dialogue, and I lost inspiration towards the end and didn't really know how to end it because of that. I promise I'm not always this bad lolol


End file.
